from a compass rose
by Aiko Isari
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is never checking his phone again. He likes his past right where it is. Too bad it doesn't give a hoot.
1. That Which Was Abandoned

_Warnings: Dead bodies, pregnancy, implied trauma and suffering._

* * *

 ** _Prologue - That Which Was Abandoned_**

 _Date: X/X/2005 Time: XX:XX_

Yggdrasil, unlike Nishijima Daigo, did not go gentle into that good night.

Humans knew and avoided their deaths as long as possible. Survival was a will, an imperative buried in their psyche until the very last moments. Some accepted it, some fought it with all their will. But all fell in the end..

So Homeostasis retaliated, as it could only do. As the waters washed forth, it drew ultimatums towards children, pushed for change because they could create miracles if they really chose to, but it wouldn't work without the choice. It would not decide without their decisions. Homeostasis believed without question in free will.

Perhaps, for those who were not gods, it didn't seem like free will, but free will and second chances were often layered in reverse psychology at least by the goddess' own standards.

And it was because she believed in those things that the barefoot girl, her form flickering from top to bottom, wandered through the monochrome ocean. Hackmon loped beside her, his armor clanking as he paused to shake himself free of grit every few meters.

"Milady, must we really?"

"They never found Gennai's body," she replied in that loose, lilting tone that she honestly preferred using. The regality was more for the humans' benefit, they wouldn't take anything seriously coming from someone (if they could hear her) like a small child grasping their vowels. She didn't particularly care about the sand in her small toes nor the chill of the water lapping at her ankles. Perks of pretending to be human. "If we leave it without preparing it properly, or finding it, the data could be corrupted again, if it hasn't been already." _As human data is so easily twisted._ She knew from experience.

"Presuming he survived," grumbled her servant.

The girl shrugged, lifting her hand. A silver orb floated just above it, cutting through the monochrome colors and revealing shades of green and blue around them, washing about in waves. "Then we recycle him. It won't be the first time we recycle."

Hackmon paused mid-step, staring at the tiny back of his master. "Are you… my lady are you pouting?"

She stopped, and her shoulders hunched. "He threw me away. They all threw me away. Again." Her voice didn't waver and she straightened her back as she walked, but there was a noticeable tremble in her outstretched hands. "I think… that a pout is the least of my transgressions, Hackmon."

"You hurt them, milady." Hackmon kept his voice steady and calm. "You left them a task of painful duty and walked them into the path without their consent."

"You would see it that way," she muttered, stepping forward faster and faster, almost a jog. "You sympathize with them. I understand how that child felt, imagine an eternity of that. An eternity of loneliness and destruction, when they killed their most loved. I could have been so much worse. That thing floating in the etherial sea, they are so much worse but I'm a terrible existence, unforgivable in every sense."

Hackmon grit his teeth, plodding after her as her voice grew louder. "Perhaps if you spoke to them-"

"I've tried-"

"As yourself."

She paused. "Then I'm just a mortal. Just a plaything."

"Better than a shut-out scapegoat. For all that is and will be." He felt more than saw the shake in her exhausted shoulders, saw the lines where blood should have seeped out of her clenched fists.

"Not really."

Hackmon almost sighed aloud, but he didn't dare. She was never a harsh mistress, rather the opposite. She sounded more like she was going to cry than scream in anger as her predecessor had. Besides, in a way, his master was correct. She could not cross the planes physically, not if she wanted to retain her sanity. Yggdrasil had made sure of that. Just as the host computer had made sure the goddess Homeostasis was friendless and alone. She could never truly act on threats, never speak to the creatures in her realm unless the balance was on a precipice or with an acolyte. And one of her acolytes was here somewhere.

The other was probably lost to her as well, thanks to Yggdrasil. It almost didn't seem worth saving the first. And yet here she was, valuing life again and again and again, all while being damned.

 _And to think,_ he mused to himself. _They mock her and call her weak._

"Hackmon!" Her voice was higher and faraway, down in a small pool. Something stuck out there, what looked like a human leg covered in thin netting (nylons, perhaps?) and a waterlogged foot with no shoes. He raced to his master, who was hovering about, Her fingers grew more translucent the further she reached. "She's alive," he heard his mistress say, all bad mood forgotten, voice full of relief and wonder.

Why did it matter to her? He approached the body and saw the crumpled form of Himekawa Maki, belly swollen through the stick of her clothes, skin pallid and a human gun ripped to pieces at her side.

"The failed acolyte."

"She did not fail," the goddess murmured. "There simply weren't enough resources at the time."

That was true, that was true but still here was the cause of so much, the puppet scapegoat fiend of a child.

No wonder his little mistress sympathized so.

His mistress floated the orb to him, patiently watching him claw over, mouth twisted into a grimace. "Keep this close. I will search for Gennai and then signal you."

Hackmon made to protest, but she was already gone, wading into the water until she could dive in and never drown.

Hackmon, ever obedient, watched the woman's chest rise and fall in slow, shallow turns. His claws ached to strike, to gouge out the human organs and see the difference between one and the other. The woman groaned into wakefulness, fingers twitching, the swell of her belly rent unmoving.

And Hackmon understood.

"You vile creature," he hissed, so softly that the waking woman couldn't have heard. "You are buying your life with that… that parasite, that abomination… that is the reason I cannot rend my claws through you, you traitorous-"

"How rude." The words were low, hoarse, shattered. "Do you speak to your master with that mouth?"

Hackmon bared his teeth and shook himself, low growls leaving his gullet. It was this place, this ocean, this world. It fed on the baser instincts, the old ways. He was a _knight._ He could not, would not submit to its wiles, as many had done before it. If he did, he would lose his lady forever. And the Chosen, much as they loathed her now, would lose their only ally in another longstanding war.

"She would not," he finally ground out. "As she should not suffer your existence."

"But she will and does, little martyr." She coughed, a rattling sound of pain. "As she hoped we would become."

Hackmon's armor began to quake, threatening to explode off with the force of his evolution as he ripped in-

Then his mistress returned, drenched in water and carrying something, a lump. No, not a lump, a human hand. He shrank at the sight of it.

The woman laughed until she cried. A ring was clutched in those fingers.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Thank you so much for reading! This is my first YOI fic and I hope it does well!

Admittedly this is a starting point. I wanted so much more in this but it was getting very strong and very overwhelming so I just focused on making this Yuuri's story/the story of how it all started. That would give me a lot of ways to keep going in small stories and gradually build up. This piece is complete so while I can't change too much, I can clarify things in edits.

Challenges: J34 Diversity, LLYOIBB, Enduring BB. (probably others can't remember!)


	2. The Phone Call

_Warnings: Anxiety, ghosts, trauma, death_

* * *

 _ **Chapter One - The Phone Call**_

 _Date: 02/26/2013 Time: 09:17_

Everything had been perfect.

With Victor at his side, with his couples debut, they had won the hearts of the audience. The rink had managed to win his own heart all over again. He'd kept a brave face through the interviews, had worn his medals with pride.

Katsuki Yuuri had gone to bed with feeling content for the first time in years. Not only that, he'd gone to bed next to the man he had admired and fallen in love with, exhausted from the sport that he had loved since childhood and had torn him apart from the inside out. Katsuki Yuuri had done so much more than he had ever dreamed of doing from his first time on the ice.

He should have known.

He should have known he had been building too high, too big, too much! Everything was going to fall apart eventually, that was just how these things worked. But he'd… he'd deluded himself. It was just that simple.

Katsuki Yuuri woke up the morning after his paired skate, still a little sore. It was that good, comfortable kind of sore, where you'd worked hard and seen results and had something to be proud of. It was still absolutely painful all the same, but it was invigorating to see it go somewhere, anywhere. He woke up and stretched a little, things blurry without his glasses or even contacts. His hand brushed against soft hair. A smile filled his face, stretched his cheeks a little too wide but warm all the same.

Then Viktor snored and ruined what he was squinting at. It was no longer the peaceful face of a pro skater, his fiancee, beautiful in sleep, but a monster with a terrible loud sound that shook his mouth and made it go unnaturally wide. Then, Yuuri watched his robe pajamas slip and reveal a few grayer hairs on a toned torso, an ugly as hell necklace straight from his parents' hot spring that ended with a katsudon shaped medal, and worst of all, the tattoo of a butterfly just under Viktor's armpit.

Honestly, he was amazing and Yuuri clung to the fact that he was Yuuri's alone to look at in quiet splendor in this fashion.

Or, mostly splendor. He was still snoring after all.

And honestly, Yuuri wanted to go back to sleep too.

His stomach growled.

Maybe after some toast and tea. Or some light breakfast. Just because they'd get a break for a few seconds didn't mean it would last.

As Yuuri rose from into a sitting position, his phone began to buzz. Not loudly, and even if it had, he was sure Viktor would have slept through it anyway.

Makkachin boofed at the sound, of course, but he was comfortably on the couch, buried in the towels and pillows provided by fawning hotel staff who also love a dog. Yuuri smiled at his fluffy form as he picked up his glasses and then the phone.

The caller ID was very baffled, the number unfamiliar. He was tempted to ignore it. But against his better judgement, he did not. He moved away from the bed, pajama bottoms dangling loosely on his hips.

"Hello?"

There was silence at first. Sweat dripped down his spine, woke him up properly. "Hello?" Yuuri repeated, voice starting to quaver. Panic crept in his vision. Were they in danger? Was someone trying to threaten them for doing something no one and everyone dared to at-

"Yuuri?"

His heart dropped into his stomach to be digested. _That voice._ He'd heard it all kinds of ways, young and wispy, screeching delight, angry howls and broken sobs, and with a shaking fist trained on his childhood bully and best friend all at the same time-

" _Leave him alone, you heaping toddler! What's he done to you?"_

And now aged, aged a thousand times.

"Maki?" he whispered, disbelieving.

Another pause, but this one accompanied by whooping shrieks a distance away and a low murmur that led to quiet. "Yeah," she finally said. "It's me. I… We saw you on television. Congratulations."

Her voice sounded so, so _tired._ And he gaped at the air like a fish.

"It's been over _ten years_ ," he finally managed to say, trying not to look at Viktor, not to look at anything. "Why haven't you, what's happened, why _now_?"

She took a sharp, heaving exhale, too big for her body. "I… Remember-"

"Yes," he said quickly because how could he let her finish that sentence? He had no idea what she could finish it _with_.

 _Remember when we were kids and saved the world? Remember when we made the best friends in the whole world and they abandoned us here without much of a goodbye at all? Remember when Bakumon died for no reason none at all and I was supposed to be fine with it? Do you remember that?_

Because he did. God, he did. He remembered her howling and howling as they left her on a grey beach, sobbing and abandoned. He remembered finding her just back in the human world, sitting on a bench not talking. Not talking, barely eating. He remembered Zhuqiaomon's great imperious eyes, not his Hawkmon's really, so far removed from him as he spoke.

 _You've done enough. Rest now._

Only he hadn't rested, he'd gone into anything that wasn't that adventure, anything that wasn't rich with foreign life and monsters. He focused on reality and reality had torn him apart and it hadn't torn apart the others. Takeshi because he was really strong when he wanted to be and Yuuko because she was determined and went for what she really wanted without hesitation even if it changed and Daigo was-

Daigo was their optimistic moron of a leader where was he-

"What happened to Daigo?" he asked because he couldn't bear to ask what happened to her not yet because it was probably awful and painful because the girl he'd known had been independence to the core, she wasn't allowed to break-

"He's dead."

He heard, felt the sob in his bones that came from her, thinly restrained.

Yuuri dropped the phone. Makkachin woofed outright in worry.

And that was when Viktor had woken up.

He should never have answered that god damn phone.

* * *

It took a lot of explanations, mostly half-truths on Yuuri's part, but he eventually managed to escape the hotel room. He'd found out something personal and needed more details but he had just been surprised and that was _all it was._

Viktor likely hadn't believed him, but he'd promised to tell him what he could when he had all the facts.

Thankfully Maki had hung up right after he'd dropped the phone. Or to be more precise from her text, someone had called her and forced her to hang up, but he could call her for another few hours.

He wasn't sure he wanted to call her back. Daigo was dead. Impossible, hapless, devoted Daigo, who had stuck around when they'd left, who went into governmental degrees just because, and who understood computers if he blinked at them enough times-

Whose smile could light up a room just like Viktor's. That Nishijima Daigo, one of his best friends in the world (some title that was), was _dead._

"Mostly," mused a voice just behind him. For a moment, Yuuri, pedaling down the nearly empty roads of (which he couldn't wait to leave with the Russian ruler likely itching to shoot him full of lead and make him and his conveniently disappear) at eleven in the morning on a Tuesday, thought he'd just heard someone's conversation. But then he heard the voice again, far deeper than he could remember.

"Mostly dead," he heard right beside him. Floating next to his frantic wheels without a care. "Dying in the Digital World for a human is like dying in the human world for a digimon. It doesn't go quite right. So I'm still here. Still searching for a way to do… something or other.

Daigo smiled at him, weary, satisfied. "Been a while Yuuri. Lookit you."

His smile was immediately replaced with a terrified shout as Yuuri almost crashed his bike into the nearest lamp post. "Shit, you okay?"

 _I'm hallucinating._ The thought made him shift and twitch a little, but he managed to say, "I'm fine."

"Oh. Good. Great. Uh…" He shifted beside him as Yuuri did the smart thing and got off of the bike. "God what do I say now…?"

"I don't know!" Yuuri heard the whine build up in his voice and couldn't get himself to stop it. "I'm not the ghost here!"

Daigo laughed, and it wasn't like Maki's at all. It was happier, warmer, somehow. "Yeah, yeah you're right, sorry. I just… I heard her, Hime-chan, call you and I, I couldn't help myself, I wanted to talk to someone."

"How can I even hear you?" Yuuri hissed. "Or see you? That was Hime's thing, she was the all-seeing priestess one, not me!"

"You almost were," Daigo reminded him as Yuuri started to pedal again. Maybe if he got far enough, the image would disappear and he could forget most of today and get back to the awful grieving for the man who was right beside him.

In a suit drenched in blood in the middle, white suit with red dried and crept up the sides. The jacket was wrapped tight around the middle failing to stem the tide.

Needed to think of something else. Preferably about not being second best to the girl that shone like a beacon.

"Anyway, you can hear me because I want you to. I don't…" He trailed off, rubbed his shoulder in that old familiar aching way, from the injury he had gotten when he was so young and hadn't healed properly despite it. And it never really would either.

"I'm not ready for Hime-chan to hear me yet, to see me, to feel… that again." He shook his head and sighed, though Yuuri sincerely doubted the guy needed to breathe. "I… she'll explain. She blames herself and it's… a lot of it is her fault. But it's mine too, and theirs and Yggdrasil's."

Yuuri slowed his pedaling. Now there was a name he hadn't wanted to hear again, there in the dead of night three days after the end of their journey.

Three days after there had been a crying little girl, smaller than them by a head, sitting at his bed and weeping apologies because-

 _She lied to me, I had to stop her she lied she said she saved me she had lied to me I had to do this and I hurt you all now I'm sorry it was the only way I'm so sorry-_

He had wished, still wished now sometimes that he'd been able to pat the girl on the head, tell her it wasn't her fault, that she'd done the best that she could, but his hand had passed through her the moment he had tried.

She had smiled, sadly, very sadly. "Just a ghost, Katsuki Yuuri," she had said and faded away like she hadn't left water stains on his pillow. "Don't mind me."

He had, though, minded. Very much. No one else would.

"You need to talk to her then, especially if you don't want to." It sounded so hypocritical coming from him, who ran far and fast but what else was there really but that?

"I can't," Daigo repeated as he moved one hand towards where… Yuuri looked away, feeling nausea bubble on his throat.

Yuuri opened his mouth to shout at him, which would look weird since he was obviously talking to empty air, and before he could, Daigo was gone.

Yuuri stared blankly at the air. Then, with as much determination as he had used for the Grand Prix, he turned and pedaled on.

This was the worst day ever. And so far away from just _yesterday._

* * *

Yuuri finds a private room in a library, one that Viktor had shown him his second time here but had never visited. They had private rooms, meant for studying and students and getting the ever loving hell out of the pit that every college student was thrown into from jump unless they were filthy rich or in a country with better priorities. A private room was good for meetings and phone calls and skype video chat.

Yuuri, checking his laptop had survived the cold, send the message out and waited. His sweat tumbled down his forehead, the weight of the past few hours making him hunch over as he caught his breath.

No tears were flowing and that scared him.

He was a crybaby and he knew it. Why wasn't he crying? One of his childhood friends was a ghost and he didn't know why but it was his other friend's fault and none of them had reached out or helped or anything and-

Skype abruptly stopped beeping as a messy mop of brown hair and bright amber eyes stared out at him. They blinked, too large and baffled to be Maki's eyes.

The person pulled away and turned their head. "Mom, that person's blinking at me."

 _Mom?_

Nothing else appeared on screen at first, clutching a glass of juice. The girl took it eagerly in her small hands and sucked at the straw. The sofa in the background creaked as he made to sit down.

 _Oh god, oh god please no, please don't tell me they-_

Maki peered in from the corner of the screen. "Hello Yuuri," she said, voice the same as it had been this morning, if a bit more worn out. "I see you've met my daughter."

 _Oh dear god they had sex. More than once._

That was none of his business and now he definitely wasn't going to forget it anytime soon.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Two updates so soon! Hooray! This story will be updated Mondays and Fridays. Someone please tell me what gender Makkachin is I don't remember!

Guest: Nope, that was actually the _only_ appearance of Hackmon in the story. Whoops!


	3. Knocks and Aches

**_Chapter Two - Knocks and Aches_**

 _Date: 02/26/13 Time: 12:19_

"My name's Makiko and I'm seven!" Her little voice declared from the apparent comfort of Maki's lap. He'd always found it boney himself, but Yuuri supposed it would be different if that was your parent. His dad's lap had been great for that reason.

Yuuri twitched, trying to reconcile all these realities in front of him at the same time. Then he gave up and repeated the words he had said to Yuuko's children the first time they had been old enough to meet him and remember his name. "Nice to meet you. My name is Katsuki Yuuri and I'm old."

Maki let out a snort and Makiko waggled a finger over her juice. "You are not old! I know who you are. Your _husband_ is old!"

Yuuri felt all of the tension seep out of his shoulders as he laughed out right. Maki gently prodded her daughter in the forehead. "Viktor Nikiforov is not old. His hair is only naturally grey. Don't insult people like that."

"Don't worry," Yuuri managed to wheeze out after a moment. "He thinks the same thing. It's the nature of the business."

Maki chuckled a little. "Indeed, it seems like it." She paused. "That was actually how I got your phone number."

Yuuri sobered. "I was wondering how you got that."

"Most of that was your parents." Maki sat back and Makiko crawled off and out of sight, likely to go and play. "I was curious and called them for advice once in a while and eventually found the courage to get your phone numbers. You were the first one I called."

"You probably should have called Takeshi and Yuuko first," he told her, failing not to smile at the look of mulish awkwardness on her face. He knew that sensation so well. "They have triplets, they would have sent you all the help and themselves."

Maki raised a single eyebrow and that was all the answer Yuuri needed.

His friends were also nosey busybodies, Youtube was a good example of that. Yuuko meant well, though, usually.

"So what caused you to call anyway, aside from reconnecting?" He forced himself to say it, to ruin the mood she had started them out with.

Her face grew thoughtful, then old. "Let me start at the beginning. I just… I wanted Bakumon back."

 _Oh shit._ "What… what did you do?" All he could think of was Daigo, a bloody mess, hiding from her. Hiding from his own daughter, who had to be that little girl's father. But it would only make sense that Maki did something because that was what she did. She solved problems, or tried to. She always tried to solve everyone's problems. But sometimes she was just plain wrong.

Maki took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "I tried to reboot the world."

Yuuri turned that over in his head. "I think I'm going to need more detail than that…"

She looked almost like she had aged ten years. "I figured you might."

And so she told him, pausing only to adjust Makiko on her knee as the little girl started to fall asleep, snoring quietly until she was in a proper angle. Yuuri listened with only his water bottle and some food he had snuck from the hotel breakfast this morning but he barely touched it, watching the hollow lines in her ace seem to deepen so.

"I can't… I just… it hasn't stopped." Yuuri wanted to feel anger, disappointment. He wanted to lash out at her so much, but he knew himself. What good would that do her, almost eight years later? "Homeostasis hasn't figured out this is-"

"I don't think Homeostasis can do anything." Maki sipped at what he assumed was ice water. "She's got world after world to look after and considering this one wasn't even created by her…which brings me to my main point in calling you initially."

She steepled her fingers and it was in that practiced way that Yuuri was sure she had used on her coworkers so many times and in so many ways it was uncannily like his middle school teachers. "Even before the reboot I caused, I have had suspicions about the beasts. They were sealed away so easily in 1998 by the dark masters and were _kept_ that way."

Yuuri swallowed. "Were they really?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Sealed away after 1998 I mean? Do you know that for sure?"

Maki shifted in her seat. "I can't be certain. That was what that Gennai manifestation told me."

"And he was _so helpful_ before that." Yuuri flinched at himself, watching the child's brows knit. "Sorry," he mumbled. Because his only memory of Gennai was a projection, a hollow, a dismissive _figure._

"No, it's… I understand." She brushed the girl's hair back down. "But I have to believe it was the case. Your partners… they loved you."

Yuuri made a face. "If that was the case, wouldn't they have said goodbye?"

Maki snorted. "I wonder about that myself."

Yuuri almost laughed. Almost. "I wish you had done it."

"So do I. but in a way, I did." Maki regarded him thoughtfully over her cup once more. "His egg is coming to you, Yuuri. And to the others as well."

* * *

Viktor Nikiforov was a man who was used to secrets. He didn't exactly anticipate them, mind you, but celebrities learned to keep much of their lives private, much of their time out of the spotlight out of the spotlight.

Still, he had learned, in a relationship, a truly loving and good one, communication was essential. Which was hard with Yuuri, he knew. Yuuri was… not complicated exactly. Humans, on their own, were complex individuals. Yuuri was… fragmented. It was like his childhood, just as self-inflicted, just as delicate and complicated.

Viktor almost laughed out loud. Everyone would be very… uncomfortable with those words. As he had to remain untouchable, unbreakable, someone who had yet to be conquered.

If it was that easy, everyone would be that way, he supposed.

Makkachin let out a soft boof of encouragement as he nosed his fluffy face onto Viktor's left knee. Viktor chuckled before he could stop himself. "Wanted your spot back, did you?" He stroked the curly, fluffy head. "Don't worry, my knee is yours whenever you want… except when I'm sleeping of course."

Makkachin, completely unable to interpret human words in any comprehensible standard, merely let out another excitable bark instead and wagged his tail.

"Ohhh," Viktor gushed with a beaming smile. "You are such a good boy, Makkachin~!" He began to toy with his pet's ears until the exasperated pup leaped onto the bed and knocked him over.

"Careful, darling, careful!" he shouted as he fell back, head smacking the pillow. "We aren't as young as we used to be, now are we?"

Makkachin made a doggy sound for laughter and Viktor went down with them, still managing a smile.

But on the inside, he wondered.

As long as Yuuri communicated with him soon, it would be fine. If not, he did have drastic measures to fall back on.

Namely, Phichit Chulanont, who was somewhere downstairs, likely browsing the gift shop. Not to mention Yuri, who was so cute when you ruined his plans for the day.

Triumph glowing in his eyes, Viktor sat up with Makkachin and set to work.

He didn't see his phone glow, nor hear it beep in a manner that he would have would cute and childish. Yuuri, however, would have found it ominous.

* * *

The text from Viktor startled Yuuri, pulling him away from the now less miserable conversation topics that Maki had. There were now chosen ones all over the world and they kept appearing, like sudden gusts of wind.

"They're appearing to infants now," she had been saying when the vibration shook his leg. "It's like having twins only one can eat the table."

Yuuri had snorted. "Yuuko's triplets could eat the table if it was made of ice."

"I don't want to know," Maki fired back and Yuuri laughed. Quietly of course, this was still a library. But it was still funny.

"She's happier now," he heard somewhere behind him. Daigo, who probably had an expression that fused bitterness and joy and pain. "Without me. She's… smiling more. She's always smiled more when you were there."

Yuuri glanced at Maki again, who took another long sip of juice. She'd lost her taste for alcohol after her daughter was born. Her eyes were heavy with some weight, her shoulders a little too slumped, skin waxy, hair healthy. From a distance, he supposed she would look fine.

In lieu of saying anything like that, however, he checked his texts instead. There were three. One was from Phichit with a hamster cage in his hand. He'd bought _another_ one, the poor things. He wanted to ask where Phichit kept them all because even though they had lived together and he had seen them, it was apparent that they came from nowhere and were created from nothing.

He thought the scenery looked familiar but ultimately dismissed it. St Petersburg made Michigan weather on its own seem like a tropical island, and that left Thailand as an awkward position. Hence why once competitions were over and done, he skedaddled out. He had figured his friend would take the first flight out. But may he couldn't have. So Yuuri sent back a few cheerful emojis and went back to it. That always pacified him temporarily.

Next was an email from his fans, sharing photos and begging for information. That didn't happen because he had no reason for it to. So delete. Next.

Viktor. Calling him back to the hotel, nothing about their next skate practice, wanting free time before Yakov Feltsman got a hold of them. It would be at least a week, six days now, burying the media storm of hellfire and brimstone that came from being a same-sex (possibly, VIktor had yet to say and there were things you just didn't push with a person who was comfortable enough in his own skin as it was right now.

"I'm being called back," he told her with a small smile. Well, he thought it was but Maki had a look that told him it was much more soppy and exuberant than he meant.

"I'm being called to bed," she replied, taking pity on his soul and the blush rising so quick to his face it looked ready to blow his scalp off. "Or rather, I'm calling it."

Yuuri couldn't contain his snort. "So much for you being a night owl."

He paused, expecting… something, he didn't know what, but all he got was a small, brilliant grin. "Adulthood bites," she told him, and he heard that little girl all over again, proclaiming how terrible and dumb being a kid was. "I'll call Takeshi and Yuuko tomorrow."

It warmed his heart to say goodbye so long as she looked like that.

The call ended and Yuuri packed up his things. It was almost peaceful.

Then there was a sob in the back corner. And there was Daigo, curled up. Not the adult this time, no, instead it was stepping back a couple decades and staring at a clean red shirt and jean shorts, ruined by the dirt of grime of too many wears and not enough washes. He sat in the corner, as Yuuri knew most children smart enough to do when they thought they were in trouble. And Yuuri also knew that Daigo had spent a lot of time in a corner or out of sight.

"She's happy," He heard the child say and his voice was still disproportionately deep and adult. All that was wrong was the _sniffling._ He didn't have to do that. It broke Yuuri's heart and agitated it all at the same time.

"She's happy without me," Yuuri heard and the bitter angry feeling chilled with the guilt. Because hadn't he thought the same thing? Hadn't he assumed he was the same with Viktor? And hadn't he been wrong?

"Is she?" he asked and he bit his tongue on the rest of it. Because that hadn't been the voice of a happy woman. That had been the voice of a surviving one and they weren't the _same_ , damn it not even close to the same.

"She didn't sound that way to me."

Daigo was gone when he looked again.


	4. Invitation

**_Chapter Three - Invitation_**

 _Date: 02/26/2013 - Time: 15:27_

Yuuri returned to their hotel with an empty bladder and more shaking bones than he knew what to do with. He parked his bike with fumbling fingers. His gloves were just not cutting it today, he'd have to try something else.

He also had promised to explain everything to Viktor and god, where was he going to even start? Where was he going to go to explain this to his… fiancee? Husband? They hadn't made anything official… ahhgh. He pressed his heels into his eyes.

If Yuuri felt like being honest with himself, he had never wanted to talk about it, period. Takeshi and Yuuko, damn them, didn't have to. (Except they did, of course they did, with the terrible intimacy of the other not being able to forget.

He hiccupped before he could stop himself, rubbing his eyes and swallowing the inevitable deluge. At least crying in front of Viktor was getting better. He was starting to mind it less and less and so was Viktor himself, who didn't seem to understand how to deal with tears all together. He wanted to ask him about that, talk to him about that. But now they had to talk about _this_.

Yuuri stepped into the hotel and the anxiety of what anyone would term as the tragic backstory™ faded into the general "I am not worthy of being here" anxiety. Which wasn't much better. He could pacify it though, because this was _Viktor's_ choice and his, and the two of them talked about these choices and Yuuri had decided he'd liked it here than the last luxurious hotel they'd been shoved into. So it was also his choice, which meant no matter what anyone else said he belonged here all the same. It only helped so much, but it was enough to keep his feet moving forward.

If he was getting Hawkmon back, he probably couldn't bring him here. Russia had a very low Digimon population, he realized. They were all scattered into rural areas, few of them close enough for communication. Unlike Japan, which loved packing most of its population in dense areas, it would only make sense they appeared more in that city life. More electricity, more technology, just more in general.

Not that Russia didn't have these things. It was just, it had started in metropolitan areas, it would take time for it to expand further out.

But Hime had said that they –Chosen- were all over the world and had been since 1999, since Apocalymon. Which Yuuri had apparently slept through. Not on purpose, but nevertheless he had slept through it. There just weren't enough of them yet for it to matter. Not enough adults, not enough connections.

And that was starting to change.

Which meant at some point, Yuuri was going to have to watch his loved ones get their own digimon and with none of the baggage. None of the "you have to save the world' baggage because no one needed that. And there was now something like, something like a support system, surely, being made and-

Yuuri stopped and almost stumbled as he did, grappling with the unbelievable stab of envy right in his stomach. He couldn't imagine having Hawkmon and not having to fight behind him, not have to flee for his life or climb sharp, sheer cliffs and eat gross berries-

But would the Hawkmon he had be the one who had done all of that with him? Who had tried so hard to be there for him? Or was that digimon gone forever?

Yuuri pushed himself forward and away from those thoughts as he leaned back onto the elevator wall. The first time he had been in this elevator he had stared all the way up to the top, trying very hard not to feel nauseous or overwhelmed by the sheer amount of unknown lights below. Now it was a normal occurrence. He just had to remind himself that all cities were the same in the end, as offensive as that would likely sound.

 _Either way,_ he thought to himself. _I dunno if I want the news freaking out at my giant bird friend. As if Viktor and I don't get_ enough _publicity._

Finally, he reached his floor and exited the elevator. The halls were surprisingly empty. Then again, most people were leaving for work or going home. It was too soon to hear the children about in the halls, ready for another day at the pool. So he entered the room without being accosted. He was surprised no one had tried to ask him for an autograph. That had been last year, and the year before.

Now he felt normal again. Whatever normal was.

Yuuri fumbled through his cards for the room key and managed to get it after the third or fourth try. He stopped counting, it only made things more difficult to look away from.

Of course, when the door swung open it was to a still messy hotel, the happy tail waggings of Makkachin, Viktor, Yurio and Phichit sitting in the mess… and _three giant, multicolored eggs on the nearby sofa._

Viktor smiled at him, unabashed. "Yuuri! Welcome back!"

Yuuri was proud of himself for not fainting.

* * *

Let us travel back in time a moment, or to be more precise, a few hours.

Viktor Nikiforov was a man with a headstrong sentiment. If he wanted it deep in his bones, he chased after it, never mind if it was a good idea or not. Even the most negative of actions could be spun into a positive action.

So, when Yuuri did his shutting people out thing again, Viktor had decided to call his husband's friends. Well, friend and Yurio. Yurio was terrible at being friends with people, bless his cat soul. He was however, impacted by Yuuri, so if anyone could get a few extra lines out about things that bothered him, it was Yurio. Because he had a tendency to get under the skin and be pissed off he got there instead of something else.

And Phichit was… nonchalant. Ever so much. He had the confidence Viktor had been faking since he was a small child. He had a very solid, well-thought out goal and he was willing to work towards it one day at a time. So he was the soothing one, the steady buoy in the water.

Viktor didn't pretend he had a specialty in either of those. He kept his doubts in his mask. Careful and careless. No matter how steady he was, he was as mercurial as the water and the frozen lake. Spring would always come, so a person learned to adapt. But someday in turn, summer would also end.

As a result of that, trees would always bloom and thus he would always be around. Or something, he'd lost himself in the overwhelming absurdity of his own metaphor. It happened sometimes. Couldn't be helped.

That said they were also good with Makkachin, no matter how much Yurio stated he hated dogs. Then again, his dog was special.

Hence why he came out of the bathroom to find Makkachin planted on Phichit like a curly blanket and Yurio as far away from them as possible on the spare bed (Viktor did kick in his sleep sometimes, he knew this, and some nights that was just not doable.) on his phone.

"You didn't even punch each other," he said before he could stop himself. He was smiling a bit too wide but maybe that was normal. Everything was surreal. Hours ago, he and Yuuri had skated for the world to see, without shame nor fear. And they had gotten to this place within a _year and a half_. It had taken a lot of string pulling, some he could never get again no matter how much he begged.

Now they were… like this, a jumble like the first week they had met, the first days and hours of panic, only muted and less tenuous.

"Course not," Phichit said from his place on the bed. "Yurio and I are best friends too!"

Yurio grumbled disagreement but actually did nothing so Viktor chuckled at them and released them from the prison hold that was his best friend in whole world. The poodle made his way to rest on Viktor. Phichit sat up and grabbed his own phone and they were left waiting again.

"You said he was going to the library or somethin'," Yurio said in a grumble after a few minutes. "Where did he go?"

"He said that he was going on a video call," Viktor replied as carelessly he could manage. He had no reason to be concerned. "Across time zones."

Phichit let out a mild hum of understanding and the companionable silence resumed.

Then, Yurio started swearing about five minutes later.

Not too surprising, honestly. He often started cursing the longer he was on instagram. But then he threw his phone, which he never did because he paid his own phone plan and replacing on his plan was grounds for a physical execution.

The reason for this became clear about four seconds later when his phone started _glowing._

His bed was very hot for some reason, and it wasn't the comfortable heat of Makkachin either. He splayed his hand about for his own phone and wrapped around it. Then he yanked it away and Makkachin barked in distress.

Phichit's phone also hit the floor and all of them ended up covering their eyes from the sheer light covering the room. For a moment, Viktor wondered if the curtains could block a light bright as the fluorescent lamps from dingy locker rooms combined.

There was a sudden, pointed weight on his chest, big and burly and smooth. He coughed for a moment as it rolled and settled. With it came something small, light, resting on his shoulder before sliding down and smacking his arm.

Then the light faded and each of them had an egg and a toy in their presence.

There was a moment of silence. Then Phichit said, rather matter-of-factually, all things considered,

"We need to keep these warm."

And that was how they ended up the way they were now, with Yuuri staring at the room in absolute horror, and monster eggs on their hotel sofa.

"Dear fuck," Yuuri wheezed, and he really did look like he was about to faint.

"Strong tea!" Phichit announced without delay as he ran over to their unnecessary kitchenette with the electric kettle they all scoffed at. "Bit of whiskey in it too! Usually a British thing, super good American thing sometimes. Coach put us on it."

He said it all casually as he poured these cups. Four on a tea tray. He was very relaxed about the whole thing, chattering on to Yuuri as Viktor settled him on the bed and dried him off from the snow in the nice heat of their suite.

Yurio watched in front of the eggs, arms crossed, eyes fierce in their hunger for… something.

"So, Yuuri." For a moment, Phichit's tone took on something sly, like the boy raised hunting dogs for foxes instead of fifty hamsters. "Is this why your friends refuse to let me have Christmas dinner at their house?"

For a moment Yuuri seemed fully prepared to laugh until it dissolved into hopeless tears. Instead what they got was a weak little snort. "No Phichit, I told them about your inability to not break a plate after too many times with it and it just stuck."

Phichit stuck out his tongue. Yuuri squinted through his glasses.

Then Makkachin bounded up and demanded a greeting, forcing everyone to hide their careful china of paper cups for tea. And Yuuri, bound to the whims of a giant poodle, obeyed.

This silence was thoughtful. But Yurio, being himself, had to break it. "What the fuck is going on and what do you know?"

Yuuri looked at him, listened to the strange, hollow silence in his voice. Then he sighed out loud. "It all started in June, back in 1995. At least for me. That was when I first met Digimon. When my friends and I met Digimon. It was." His lips twitched, like he wanted to smiled. 'It was like an adventure."


	5. The Wonders of Communication

**_Chapter Four - The Wonders of Communication_**

 _Date: 6/11/1995 - Time: 13:37_

Hasetsu bubbled between cool and hot in turns. Young Katsuki Yuuri was not aware of this however. He was burying his face into the side of the railing for the sixth time after an ill-advised jump.

From the other side of the rink, Takeshi let out a snort as he spun himself in a single turn. "Seriously Yuuri!" He guffawed before he could stop the sound from escaping his mouth. "You klutz."

Yuuri heard the sound of a very different kind of thunk as Yuuko smacked the other boy over the head. "Stop it, you big jerk," she said, voice clear and painful in how Yuuri's face heated up at the sound of it. "I didn't see _you_ trying to make that jump."

"I like skating _and_ having an intact nose, so sue me," Takeshi shot back. He glided away from her, towards Yuuri, who was rubbing his nose and watery eyes. "Seriously, you all right?"

"Y-Yeah…" Yuuri grimaced, rubbing his forehead. "Just hurt a bit."

"You could try to impress Yuuko-chan a little _less_ , you know," Takeshi commented, grinning once more but sounding completely reasonable in his quest to make a point. "Just let me handle that, I'm good at it."

Yuuri's cheeks flooded with heat once more. "I-This has nothing to do with that and _you know it!_ "

Takeshi's brown eyes sparkled with mirth. "Sure it doesn't."

Yuuri, and not for the first time, wished for bulkier arms to leave a bruise on Takeshi's face. "A-A-And why are you doing this?"

The smile on Takeshi's face faltered for half a second. Then he grinned. "Cause it's fun, of course."

"Liar! That's not what you think at all!" He chased him around the rink until Takeshi was wheezing and clutching the edge.

"Freaking stamina demon," he heard as he caught up to drive his smaller knuckles into the other's cheek. "What are your legs even made of…"

Yuuri scowled at him, hands curling into fists even as his voice wavered. "They're-they're normal legs, you just don't glide correctly!"

"Speak for yourself!"

"You guys, come on!" Yuuko's voice echoed across the rink. "Lunchtime is over they have to open up for customers again!"

Both looked at each other and hurried across to the other side, bolting away from the tourist trap-to-be. The last thing any of them needed was to be bombarded by the eager families desperate for an escape from the strangely hot summer.

"Isn't it supposed to not be this bad until like, August?" Takeshi grumbled as he fumbled with his laces.

"I heard it was flooding in Alaska," Yuuri muttered, ducking behind a taller locker.

"Alaska?" Takeshi didn't even bother looking up from his dry pair of socks. "Mom said she saw Chicago getting so hot the streets were sticky!"

Yuuri shuddered and finished getting dressed. "It's not so bad here," he decided.

"Just wait, now it'll snow."

"Don't say crap like that!" Yuuko's voice came from down the hall.

Both boys jumped. "Does she have ears like a hyena or what?" Takeshi grumbled

Yuuri resisted the urge to comment on the almost droopy way his friend was staring outside the boy's locker room. "Probably…"

The three of them were soon exiting into the unbearable sunshine. Yuuri immediately grabbed his glasses to wipe them down.

"Summer homework," Yuuko offered, giving her ponytail another irritable tug. "I haven't finished my essay on _Genji_ …"

Takeshi scowled at her. "Do we gotta?" His voice took on a whine worthy of Vicchan. "We'll just all be crowding the fan anyway."

Yuuko opened her mouth, hands already perched on her hips as she leaned forward. "We have to _try,_ Takeshi. Sensei won't care if it was hot. He's probably grading papers and roasting."

Takeshi looked away, pout furrowing his slanted cheeks. Yuuri smiled sympathetically. It was worth a try. Amami-sensei's literature assignments were always rough on everyone's brains.

"We'll just do it for a bit?" He offered as he trailed after them. "That way it's less for us to worry about when things cool down."

" _If_ things cool down," Takeshi muttered, shooting him a glare. Yuuri, if not for Yuuko, would have shrunk away. He only smiled placidly instead. "The paper will be due by then at this rate."

"Then we'll have it done on time." Yuuko sounded utterly certain of this fact, so certain that Yuuri had to raise an eyebrow at her.

Unfortunately, she noticed and proceeded to chase him down the sidewalk.

As they ran, Takeshi heard a soft buzz and turned towards a storefront window. All of the tvs were buzzing like bees, static filling up the screens like a snowstorm.

He stared for a moment. Then he shrugged and moved on. Television was still working itself out. It was normal for their to be static like that. Maybe not that much or all the tvs but still it wasn't that far from normal.

He turned and ran to catch up with his friends. As he did, Takeshi missed the soft pop from behind the glass.

When he was far enough away, the boxes exploded, taking the storefront window with them.

* * *

True to form the three of them ended up plopped in front of the fan within an hour of furious pencil scratching and note taking. Yuuko was still attempting, scribbling notes as she lay on her stomach. At the very least, they had moved on to math.

"Okay but the numbers don't divide evenly," she said for the third time.

Takeshi groaned and rolled away from them as Yuuri, glasses long relegated to his free hand, replied. "They're not always going to. He warned us of that."

"Ugh." Yuuko threw the papers to the floor. "That's stupid."

"That's numbers." Takeshi grinned at her. "You knew it was gonna suck."

"Yeah but…" Yuuko turned away from him. "Whatever!"

"Come on Yuuko!"

Yuuri watched them bicker on both sides of him and smiled a little private smile into his arm. As he did, however, he left himself wide open for a wet tongue to get him on the forehead. He yelped and leaped up and away in a roll. "Vicchan," he yelped, rubbing the viscous drool furiously from his forehead.

His poodle had already forgotten him, going instead to pounce on Takeshi who has much more room to stand on and lick ceaselessly. It would be funny if Yuuri wasn't well accustomed to the weight of his poodle. He doubted the _actual_ Viktor Nikiforov was even close to that heavy. He glided across the ice with ease after all.

Yuuko had no such restraint and was practically rolling on the floor. Her laughter turned to a brief, coughing wheeze as she settled back on the floor. She had full access to the fan now and took full advantage, stopping the pitiful breeze right in front of her face.

It would have been cute if Yuuri wasn't also roasting in his sticky clothes. "Yuuko," he complained. Come on, we're hot too!"

"Takeshi's fine!" She waved a hand as dismissively as possible. Takeshi made a sound through VIcchan's delightful affection that did not sound fine in any sense of the word. Yuuri winced and clapped his hands. Vicchan's tail wagged and he leaped from Takeshi, going to lay placidly in Yuuri's lap. Takeshi lifted himself up from the tatami floor and groaned. He rubbed at his face desperately with his arms.

"I hope the _real_ Viktor isn't like that," he said, spitting out slobber. "Or you're screwed."

Yuuri flushed. "Viktor is graceful and elegant!"

"And old," Takeshi argued.

Yuuko threw her pencil at him. "Not for skating he isn't!"

"He's getting there! He's going into seniors and that's the end of the line!"

Yuuri tried to tune the two of them out. There were three things these two argued seriously about: Viktor Nikiforov, the merits of mixing your food together, and the attractiveness of Viktor Nikiforov. They would be at this for hours if he didn't head them off. So he reached for the tv remote and turned it on.

Five seconds later, the remote clattered from his hand to the floor as he saw their local electronics store up in flames.

His silence and the newscaster's drone brought the two of them back to earth and soon they were all staring agog at the screen.

"We just passed that," Yuuko said after the story changed. "Two hours ago. We just passed it!"

Takeshi nodded, expression numb. "Who would blow up an electronics store?"

"The cults maybe?" Yuuko offered. Yuuri shook his head back and forth. "They've been getting really active in the center of the city though! It's not impossible!"

"But we're in the middle of nowhere!" takeshi protested, voice going high and teeth chattering a little. "What would be the point? This isn't on the city news."

Yuuko opened her mouth to speak, likely to tell them that was on purpose, when the tv suddenly exploded with static.

All three of them turned to see the grainy screen proceed to darken, the white turning red and the grey a mottled orange. It went from specks of light to zeroes and ones, a horrible whine coming from the boxy television. It almost sounded like wheezing.

Then the screen started to swell in multiple places, like welts. Yuuri let out a frightened sound as the three little lumps of zeroes and ones grew further and further out until they exploded from the screen, leaving the same smooth glass there always was, but three red hot looking eggs on the carpet. There was no smell of smoke and the light was quickly dying away. Vicchan had, by this point already fled the room.

Soon the light of the room returned to normal. The television returned to the news, now discussing the current heat wave in a drone of sound and theorists.

The three children stared at the strange items now sitting innocuously on Yuuri's carpet. At first glance, they looked to be nothing more than the weird keychain toys little kids got from crane games.

"... Think it's still hot?" Takeshi squinted at the strange toy, looking dubious. "Like, hurt our fingers hot?"

"We'd…" Yuuko swallowed, tugging on her ponytail to keep at least one hand away from it.  
We's smell it, Takeshi."

"Right…" takeshi gave Yuuri a nudge. "On three, we'll all grab one, okay?"

"What?" Yuuri hissed. "Why? It's probably still gonna burn us."

Takeshi ignored him. "One-"

Yuuko crawled up beside them, heart-shaped face set with determination.

"Two-"

Yuuri sometimes hated his friends and today was one of them. He reached out his hand.

"Three!"

They each grabbed one. It _was_ warm to the touch, yes and it chirped happily as he held it. But then it grew hotter and hotter and bright light slipped through his fingers and right into his eyes. He yelped and made to pull away, only to pull the device with him. Yuuko and Takeshi both yelped, answering the question that no it wasn't just him, they were all also losing their eyesight.

There was the faint sound of rushing footsteps, the worried cries of his mother in the distance. But they shouldn't have been so far away. They should have been right behind them.

Yuuri forced his eyes open, looking for his mother.

Only to realize he was falling through a rainbow of sound and color, dragged down by his outstretched hand until, thankfully, he fainted.

When Yuuri opened his eyes again, an unknown amount of time later, he was looking at the bluest sky he had ever seen in his life. At least, he was until his eyes saw flickers of green numbers briefly pass over the thin white clouds.

"What…?" he croaked. "Where… what?" He lifted his head wearily and bumped his nose against a beak. His head dropped back down in pain. "Ow…" Wait, a _beak_?

Yuuri slid backwards, bumping into the rough back of a tree. He had no time to tell what it was, there was a giant bird in his face and it was blinking at him like an owl, rather than a hawk. It's feathers weren't even ruffled.

It make a clucking sound. "I got the _weak on_ e, didn't I?"

Yuuri screamed, loud enough that he heard it echo.

* * *

" _You screamed?"_

" _Of course I did, it wasn't like it was a parrot or something. It was a big hawk that could talk."_

" _To be fair, I'd be weirded out if my gerbils started talking to me. What if those random cats you steal started talking?"_

" _... Shut up Chulanont."_

* * *

Yuuri did not calm down, exactly, but his racing heart did slow a little when the creature did not screech like banshees on tv and actually looked him over with concern.

"Seriously," it said, concern melting into derisive glee. "I'm not even a big fish yet, and you're afraid of _me._ Boy, do I have a lot of work to do with you." It stepped forward and Yuuri twitched, flinching hard. It scowled - how could you scowl with a _beak_?- "We don't have _time_ for this. The others are waiting, you know." At Yuuri's baffled blinking (and horrified look because dear gods were there more of these monsters?), He waved a singular red wing. "Yeah, more humans! More of us! We're supposed to be finding them so we can get this over with."

"Get _what_ over with?"

Hawkmon sighed. "The reason you were sent here of course. We have worlds to save."

Yuuri heard himself scream this time.


	6. Home in the Distance

_**Chapter Five: Home In the Distance**_

 _Date: 02/26/2013 - Time: 17:47_

Yuuri talked on a little more and then stopped. His throat hurt and his eyes felt itchy, the familiar itch of tears. Because… Because-

The voices of his childhood were suddenly just so loud in his ears, loud as the music on the rink for the first few seconds, and everyone was looking at him, shining the spotlight at him. And there wasn't-

"Sorry," he finally croaked out, rubbing his throat and taking a sip of now ugly lukewarm tea. "I just… I don't know how to tell anymore. Being in the digital world was… a whole lot of things, for me, for us. And it was… it was different then. It was less horrifying, I think. I don't know, how we did it really. I don't want to think about it."

They sat for a while and then, after a few seconds of tingling throat, Yuuri made himself talk, about something, anything else even vaguely related. "Anyway, the uhm, the eggs. They need heat, but it's better if you hold them and rub them, like you would a pet. They respond best to the heat of non-eggs. Digimon eggs usually hatch independently. No, no clutches. Sometimes collections or, or villages. But rarely siblings. Never parents."

Another pause as Yuuri sought out the information he needed. "And babies, baby level Digimon, they are like bottomless black holes. You can't feed them enough human food. So eventually you just, you have to tell them no. And…"

He trailed off, fiddling with the frame of his glasses, out of anything to say that wasn't "you'll see when you get there" because there was no way of mimicking, recreating, a human's first moments with their partner, absolutely none. There was no way to tell them how to interact with their Digimon, or even how to make them evolve. And it hurt him to even think about it.

Because things were _different_ now, weren't they? There were other people taking care of saving the world and a whole Chosen Child network coming along, it was like having a baby after leaving a poor housing structure. It was… different.

Yurio suddenly leaped from the bed and snatched one of the eggs - Yuuri missed which one - and made his way towards the exit. "Well, thanks for that then! Anything useful you've got for me?"

Yuuri forced himself to swallow and square his shoulders. He made his voice level. "Nothing that's your business yet."

The second the words were out, he almost wanted to take them back. But he couldn't. He refused to. This wasn't a story to parade around. For heaven's sake, he'd just been pulled back into this whole reality a day ago! Could he have a minute to process?

Yurio's face twisted and Yuuri could see the words forming on the younger skater's lips. Then he stormed out. Yuuri was half-sure Yurio would be leaving grooves in the carpets if he could be.

Phichit made a pouting face after him. "Party pooper!" he shouted as the other made it to the door. "I'll go tell Otabek on you! Just you wait!"

"Like he goddamn cares!"

 _When did these two get so close?_ Yuuri wondered just how much practicing the paired skate had worn him out if he had missed that blossoming friendship.

Phichit watched the door slam with a huff of bemusement. "What a bummer he is." His voice was warm with affection as he said it. Then he turned to Yuuri, brown eyes still glimmering with pride. "Thanks though, Yuuri! I'll get the rest out of you soon enough. Now I gotta pack though. I need to be headed back to America so I don't get out of shape." He hopped up and picked up his own, the little triangles on the egg seeming more blue in the light of the room. "Catch you online!"

And he was gone, but not before taking a selfie with his egg as he went.

All Yuuri could do was hope that that picture wouldn't be viral before he managed to get back to Hasetsu to talk to his parents. By the gods his parents were going to be apoplectic. Digimon were the one thing that sent them over the moon with fear rather than excitement. Well that, and a lot of stuff from high school but that was high school.

… Or he'd get lucky and they'd just accept it, as they did everything else. You had to be made of steel to run an inn after all, even in a tiny place like theirs.

What would they say? Was their budget enough for a Digimon? Two Digimon? Would he even really get Hawkmon back? Did he _want_ Hawkmon back? That was… that was the most important question.

Yuuri was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't expect Viktor's hand on his shoulder. He really should have though, because it was immediately followed by Makkachin on his knee and Viktor's blue eyes piercing his own.

Yuuri, graceful as ever, yelped and and fell backwards onto the bed. "Vik-Viktor!"

"Yuuri~" His husband sang back, completely unperturbed. Well, on the surface anyway. The way those eyes were looking at him was not comfortable at all. "How did you skate with all of this on your mind, Yuuri?"

Yuuri flushed, but it wasn't out of embarrassment but a little annoyance. "I didn't… I didn't think about it. At all, really."

Viktor paused, briefly, enough to start petting Yuuri's hair like was the one with the fluffy fur. "You didn't?" A finger traced a smooth swirl on Yuuri's open palm with his ring finger.

Yuuri shook his head, adjusting his legs to give Viktor a more comfortable position to sit on the bed. Makkachin leaped up beside them like the furry armrest he enjoyed being. "I tried to forget about it really… the three of us did. The other two… they may have tried. I don't know, we lost contact after we left the Digital World. They lived in the bigger cities, so it was difficult to make ourselves go and see them and… remember."

Viktor nodded, but his eyes held that same intensity, not unlike the times he told Yuuri the new routine, or when he had declared, wholeheartedly, that he would be his coach to begin with.

Yuuri had looked away before, or only looked because he couldn't _not_ look. Now, he looked back because he was not afraid and because it was true and he had no reason to be ashamed.

Viktor didn't look away but he ran his hands over Yuuri's anyway "I see… And now they're here."

Yuuri nodded, smiling a little because the horror had been yes, but it had been fun sometimes, fun and good and much more. "And now they're back here. And you have one." That didn't hurt, no, it stung, it stung because he didn't know all of the answers because Maki hadn't had them all either despite being the cause of all of it. "And now you have an egg, yes. It'll be like having a baby Makkachin."

Makkachin made a noise of confusion and delight and burrowed into Yuuri's armpit.

"A baby poodle?" The intense tone of voice faded from Viktor's voice, replaced by the eager one like a child, carefree and walking across tiny beams with arms outstretched.

Yuuri thought about it. "I don't know, actually but it would suit you. There are a few dog digimon."

"Nothing to replace Makkachin," Viktor began, a playful warning note in his voice.

"Of course not!"

Makkachin borked his bafflement at them, and earned mixed laughter. No other questions were asked and Yuuri was grateful for that. That was the last thing he needed.

* * *

It was late.

Yuuri had somehow re-accustomed himself to sleeping on the other side of a slippery, occasionally wiggling egg. It was nice and warm which was good for the egg, and it gave a sense like the nests that appeared to cradle the hatching babies.

Yuuri closed his eyes and tried not to think of the many many eggs and hatching babies he had seen popping into view before his eyes until they had just stopped.

Except for one, all except for one.

And his partner, but then again, his hadn't died.

Or had they, when the reboot happened? Maki hadn't mentioned it. She may not know. Had she been back since causing the reboot?

Somehow, Yuuri did not want to know.

Instead, Yuuri focused on the window outside, on the steady humming from the radiator and the dog snores from the sofa. He breathed slowly, in and out, the discomfort of the day slowly seeping out of his shoulders and legs.

At least, he thought with a rueful smile to himself. It had happened now, rather than during that disastrous Grand Prix final. He was stronger now. He could bear… whatever he was feeling. And he had Viktor and everyone by his side.

Things were different now.

And yet the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

As Yuuri settled into a restful sleep, their cell phone's briefly glowed in a rainbow of color before going out once. No one was awake to see Nishijima Daigo appear in the room and look around.

His suit wasn't stained red this time. It was plain, unobtrusive. His footsteps made no sound as he crossed the room. He could feel the warmth from the radiator, the chill attached to the side of the window. The near-silent hum of the bathroom light and the gurgling of the new pipes. He heard and felt it all.

And yet he could really touch none of it. The very thought made his yet-to-be bloody hand twitch with longing and he didn't quite know how to stop it from doing that. So he cast another gaze around the lavish hotel room.

 _He looks happier,_ Daigo thought, seeing Yuuri breathing easy in a way they couldn't have before. It was a thought without bitterness, like hot chocolate. He was relieved at the idea of it, of his best friend being here without the world's concerns on top of him.

He sat on the floor. The dog hadn't woken up but that didn't mean that it wouldn't and he didn't want to risk it. Seemed like a sweet old dog, he didn't need much more in his old age. So Daigo just sat and breathed in and out. It wasn't a mimicry either, he knew. He hadn't wanted to believe, of course, but he was coming back to life. All of them were.

And that may have meant the ghouls, the nightmares that haunted his dreams and drove him for that last beer can in the blisteringly early hours, were coming back themselves.

He had no idea, but… he could only hope that the children, the adults now, had taken to the future and destroyed them properly, as they themselves had failed.

Because once your journey was over, you surely deserved peace.

 _Hime-chan didn't,_ some childish, tired part of him whispered. _I don't._

Or maybe she hadn't believed it was real, and that was why he was here now. He too remembered the skidding of tires and the sudden smell of smoke.

And now a different pain from the stabbing agony of the falling rocks filled him now. Envy. It was practically boiling under his palms. Yuuri hadn't been there. None of them had been there on that day, or the months after, or the years after to watch the aftermath. They'd _fled_ , back to their own lives, their better futures, their normalcy. Even Yuuri had gone back to normalcy with Yuuko and Takeshi.

They had left Daigo and Maki behind and being somewhere between half-alive and half-dead and permanently one or the other, all Daigo wanted to do was throw up all over the plush blankets and rip the pajamas.

But he wouldn't dare. He couldn't even dream of such a thing.

He wouldn't take away someone else's happiness.

 _It would only be temporary,_ whispered the childlike, tired voice. _A maid woman would fix it, blame them, or think there was a problem. But they'd be long gone by then, and it would get a blind eye. The privileged people always turn a blind eye._

Daigo chewed his lip and then Yuuri's phone buzzed on the mantle. He jumped and willed himself to linger. If he wasn't careful he'd end up-

Well, haunting one of his now former students was even less interesting than haunting one of his former friends.

The phone continued to buzz until Daigo made to reach for it. Then it made a very loud shrill shriek. Both men jumped in their beds. Daigo almost risked laughing. Almost. He didn't want Yuuri to notice he was here quite yet.

Yuuri cursed and groped for his phone. He swiped with his finger the second he touched it. Viktor grumbled, arms around the egg. Where was his Digivice? He was a Chosen now, right? Surely he needed one. If there was a threat to look after anyway, he needed one. But it was nowhere in sight. What was Homeostasis playing at?

 _Nothing._

Daigo jumped and his elbow jammed into the wall. He yanked it out with a huff and turned his head to the right. She wasn't visible, but then, Homeostasis never was for him.

 _You don't look willingly. That's not a bad thing._

His fists clenched. Daigo forced himself to unfurl them. "What are you doing?" he whispered as Yuuri sat up, hearing frantic babbling too low to understand.

 _Nothing,_ Homeostasis repeated. _You met your digimon when they were children, like you. The digivice will come when they hatch. That's all._

"I don't believe you." It was easy to be honest now. Homeostasis was a very easy target. She could not, and did not, fight back.

 _No one ever does. Sometimes that works out in my favor._

Daigo scowled. No one saw.

Instead, Yuuri was showing Viktor his phone. "Takeshi and Yuuko," he was saying, wide awake and hoarse from sleep. "Their kids they… they got an egg."

Viktor pauses, rubbing his eyes. "Aren't they… five or so?"

"Yes!"

 _Nothing_ , Daigo's left eye. She was definitely up to something, and he wouldn't let her get away with ruining children's lives anymore.

 _You sound just like Himekawa._

His stomach hurt. He looked away from Yuuri, whose ears were turning pink in panic, and Viktor, who spoke serenely and got them both to lay down once more, and disappeared.

He wasn't looking but even if he had been, he wouldn't see the girl standing there, the sad look on her face, nor the way she reached out to place a hand on a wrist. Yuuri didn't either.

But Viktor did.


	7. To Soar Ahead

_**Chapter Six: To Soar Ahead**_

 _Date: 02/27/2013 - Time: 11:41_

It was nothing.

Yuuri knew that Loop, Axel, and Lutz having one digimon egg was not the end of the world. It was apparently becoming more and more common (Did his friends know? Had he somehow missed that?) to have digimon at all. It didn't mean they had some great destiny or duty to fulfill. The world was naturally changing to accommodate… monsters, and it was just easier to give them to kids.

Of course, there was no way now that they were wide awake and it had all sunk in that his friends were able to deal with that. So he had to hurry back and support them, as they had always done for him.

The main issue now was these fifteen hour flights with stops and transfers and… flying to St. Petersburg had honestly been easier.

And Viktor had managed to get the DigiEgg through customs while Yuuri was getting his shoes back on. He really wanted to know that marvel. He'd have to ask later.

Honestly, the most surprising thing was that Yurio was a few seats away, grumbling something unintelligible and clutching his yellow and orange egg with annoyance. He didn't look at either of them as they approached the gate terminal. He was deliberately wearing sunglasses indoors. Yurio could be so weird sometimes.

Viktor of course thought little of it. "Yuri!" He beamed with joy, Makkachin barked inside the carrier, his very quiet sound of course. "What are you doing here? I thought you would be on the rink by now?"

Yurio grunted. Yuuri agreed with him. He couldn't wait to go home, carve his worries into the ice before the zamboni washed it away, and then sit in the hot springs and breathe.

The digiegg would do some good in the water anyway. Takeshi had found that with a Primary Village baby once and then had them all hatch and use his leg as a cradle.

"Yakov said until I get this egg dealt with I'm not allowed to practice." He was only not spitting because they were in public, Yuuri was sure of it. He winced on the younger skater's behalf, at least up until Yurio's scowling face was more directed towards him. "You'd better help me, piggy."

"Of course I will." It was hard to feel offended at Yurio nowadays. He was just an angry kid and being an angry kid was better than being a sad one. "It's not too hard. They age pretty quickly and can look after themselves, once they get past the potty-training phase." Yurio blanched so hard it looked like it extended his cheekbones and Yuuri managed to smile. "It's not so bad. They grow out of it when they're raised in a house. Just don't leave them outside, whoever they are. They aren't like outdoor cats or dogs, they need your specific company."

"Sounds cheesy," Yurio grumbled, but he didn't say he would leave them out. That felt like progress to Yuuri.

"It is," Yuuri agreed, answering a picture from Phichit. He was now at rest, photoshopping his hamsters to imagine what they'd do to the egg. Aside from run away from it, he had no idea. Maybe they'd use the shell to chew on for teething's sake. "They tend to run on human emotion and food, it can become rather cheesy."

"Perfect for you then."

Yuuri didn't know quite what to think of that. He and Viktor _had_ kissed on international television.

* * *

The flight was long and boring and not even first class seats could change that. Normally, Yuuri just took economy and called it a day of a long time flight in seats too small for a child, never mind most passengers. But with Makkachin and the egg, it was better to be safe and sorry and not change them. So he settled in the plush chairs and tried to sleep as the plane took off and Viktor's air sickness settled. (It was still the most adorable, disgusting thing he had ever learned about his idol. He regretted knowing it so well.)

Eventually, however, he did sleep. When he awoke it was dark all around. The attendants were gliding past, smiling wearily and chatting beyond earshot. They likely hadn't slept much the night before, the few he had spoken to never had for the first few years. There was a little box next to the toiletries, likely a small bit of food if he woke up and got hungry. Yurio, a couple rows down on his right, was out cold. One of the passing attendants managed to giggle quietly as his expense. It was probably because of the drool and not the fact he was a famous skater.

Viktor too, was asleep, peacefully so. He cradled the egg the way you would a small sleeping child. It made something in Yuuri's heart quiver with warmth.

His eyes swept the spot where his feet would be and he saw something by Makkachin's container. At first he closed his eyes in dismissal. It was probably his bag. Except, as the details caught up to his not-passive brain, Yuuri remembered he carried nothing purple.

He opened his eyes again.

Makkachin's tail was probably wagging, if the nearly silent thumps of the crate were anything to go by. His beady black eyes were fixed on the source of his new-found contentment. It was probably someone's kid, sneaking into another part of the airport they weren't supposed to be in.

 _What a cute dog,_ he heard, soft and sad. _I wonder if I had a dog before. Do you think I did Katsuki-san?_

Definitely not a dog. Yuuri felt the familiar nausea, the pity, the sadness. Homeostasis looked at him, knowingly, still petting Makkachin.

 _You can just think whatever you want to,_ she said, messy purple hair and bloody, bitten nails clear in the semi-darkness. _I'll hear it as long as I'm here._

 _What are you doing here?_ Exploded into Yuuri's thoughts when he had them. _You-You're not supposed to be here!_

 _The balance isn't back to normal yet,_ replied Homeostasis, looking still at Makkachin. _When your partners come back, the elements will return, and it'll all go back to normal. Your normal._

He heard the bitterness, felt it on his tongue.

 _So for now,_ she continued. _I'm here and I wanted to ask something of you. You can always refuse it, because it doesn't affect the balance and because you don't want to._

Yuuri bit on his own tongue to keep from answering out loud, at screaming and swearing at the entity that had destroyed a part of his life that was daring to ask him for favors. It was different now. Back then it had been easy to feel righteous, feel proud and curious. The others had felt that way, and at the time he had been special, capable. If he had been able to tell Viktor the kind of person he was, one day, a hero, an inspiration just like him, it would have been worth it.

Now that he had told Viktor, been around and fallen for Viktor, Yuuri could look back and see how stupid it all was.

 _I know,_ Homeostasis said. _Everyone believes I am unaware, or that I don't care, but I do. That's why I gave choices._

 _They were hardly choices!_

 _They were more than I had._

And Yuuri paused, blinking away the pain because that wasn't fair, it wasn't true-

Except-

 _That's what you want me to find out, isn't it?_ He mused the thought. _What happened to you?_

 _Yes._ Her tone didn't change. There was some relief in it, some haunted curiosity. _It won't change anything, but… I would like to know, and Gennai-_ She paused and watched him wince. _What's left of him isn't the same. He… He's not well, Katsuki-san._

Yuuri was torn between caring and not. Not caring was safer, easier, better for the health. Homeostasis had stayed out of their way and watched, advised.

Gennai? Gennai had meddled. Gennai had advised, cajoled and warned, prophesied and mentored, all to fatten them up like lambs.

And if Hime-chan's story was true, may have betrayed them all in the end.

But caring made him remember that he too, was a victim of something. And he couldn't help but care, without that, he would be denying himself something great, himself. Or maybe he was just tired. Either way, he wanted to know. If something was wrong, they would feel it.

So he asked. And she answered.

 _Yggdrasil's agent, who took advantage of him… well, they took their time taking him apart and putting him back together again._ Her blank face did not change, uncomfortably frozen in that way people got when the line of endurance got crossed over and over again. _He's close to the end I think. So he won't listen when I ask for help. I should do it myself, he says. But no one really likes that. They need a puppet god, not an active one._

 _What do you want?_

There was a simple pause, like a period rather than actual thought. _I just want this to be over. I want to know my name._

Viktor stirred and she vanished without fanfare barring a single whisper of _please think it over. After you get your partner back._

Yuuri adjusted himself in his seat as Viktor rolled away from the seat. The egg was left in the blankets as he stretched, moving away on loosely clad feet towards the bathroom. The airplane rocked a little. As Viktor returned, the pilot spoke up softly. "Please fasten your seatbelts, we are about to enter some turbulence.

 _Well_ , Yuuri thought as Yurio shot up like a startled cat and nearly dropped his egg, and Makkachin whined from the floor. _At least I have a distraction._

* * *

Yuuri expected no one to be at the airport when they disembarked, no one who knew them anyway. And yet, clear as day, there were three people sitting in the plush seats. Well, two people were sitting. One was on the floor, what looked like an oversized crayon in her small hands as she doodled. The other was a few years older than Yurio, swiping furiously on a tablet and adjusting her glasses with the other hand. The third was-

"Maki?"

Himekawa Maki glanced up from her phone. She gave a single, sharp nod and the faintest of smiles. The girl by her feet looked up, examining them all with thoughtful interest.

"Those are your skater friends, mom?" she said. Yuuri didn't even have to look before he none too carefully stepped on Yurio's foot to keep him from whatever he could do. It might be good but he couldn't tell and he did not want to find out first hand if his former friend's right hook was as dangerous as it had been in childhood. He was safely assuming it had only gotten worse.

"Well, one of them," the woman said, rising to her feet. She inclined her head to Viktor and Yurio in turn, which was way more polite than Yuuri thought was even possible for her ever. "Himekawa Maki. Pleasure." Her voice was not like Daigo's rawness, nor was it like what had happened on the video call. It was duller now, with adulthood propriety mixed in it somewhere.

Or maybe Daigo had been wrong and she could sense him looking at her from behind. The man had never been subtle.

Yurio grunted. Viktor smiled and bowed a little too far before rising up with the same enthusiasm that belonged in a hot spring with a warm bowl of food, introducing them all. Makkachin boofed in his crate.

 _This_ got the girl's attention. She looked up and put her crayon back into the box. Then she hopped up to her feet in one smooth motion and bounded over to them, focusing on the dog. Eventually, her slit eyes bored into Yurio's blue glare. Then she pouted, hands on her hips before scurrying back behind Maki herself.

The girl in glasses giggled, putting the tablet back in her backpack. It was a soft little sound. Yuuri rather liked it. "What a strange reaction."

"She's not used to that much ferocity in someone that isn't her," Maki replied. "This is Mochizuki Meiko, a close cousin of mine. And Makiko is currently using me as a meat shield."

"A very strong meat shield!" the girl declared, looking put out still.

Yuuko and Takeshi called me this morning, informing me I needed to get you all and get down to Hasetsu immediately." Yuuri watched Maki's lips twitch. "Are they grounding me again?"

"An egg appeared for their kids," Yuuri replied.

Maki had the courtesy to wince as Meiko's eyes went wide. "One egg for multiple." Maki gestured for them to walk. "Then we should get over there before I really am grounded."

Yurio let out a snort but it was weak. Yuuko had a temper worth fearing.

As they walked, Viktor made every effort he could to engage the child trailing after her mother, egg neatly settled inside a spare duffel bag. Makiko was reluctant at first, which was fair because Viktor was the tallest one there, but like always he soon had her cautiously describing the last game of soccer she played. Viktor nodded eagerly, asking questions (because he did not know soccer. It was a miracle he knew baseball.)

Yurio stood as far apart from them as possible. It was a little adorable, if Yuuri was being honest. The egg wiggling in his poor grip. Yuuri almost turned to grab it but Meiko did it instead, gently taking Yurio's arms and adjusting them.

"You don't want to hurt yourself carrying it," she said in this matter-of-fact voice that made Yuuri muffle a snort. Yurio stared at her a moment. Meiko stared back, unperturbed. They engaged in a staring contest until they had to turn the corner, until at which point they had to separate to reach the parking lot.

"I wanted to take the train," Maki said in that familiar voice that was layered with dry irritation, the one she often used when Daigo made a decision that was going to get someone humiliated, or Yuuko tried to pin up her hair, or a whole host of things that were flooding back and making his heart war with nostalgia and annoyance. "But the others would have gotten us into trouble. If yours hatched while we were there, we wouldn't be prepared to clean up the mess."

"Yours" He echoed. "Maki, I…" He paused, fingers caught between curling and uncurling and the hand that was not on Makkachin's (unnecessary, Makkachin was a good boy) leash curled around his and Yuuri took in a deeper breath that he needed so much, more than anything.

Yurio's eyes were steady on him. Challenging probably, sympathetic maybe. But understanding, much more understanding lately. He was growing up maybe. Yuuri couldn't say.

What he could say, what he could make himself say was: "Maki, I… I don't have Hawkmon. He's not here."

She paused. It was so brief, a mere delay in a clacking heel. But the admission made Meiko look at him with new, wide eyes, and Maki's expression shutter closed like a misplaced window. "I see." Another pause as she passed a pillar to another car, a minivan even.

Yuuri did not want to know how much it cost. Maybe it was a government vehicle. People in security had nodded at her as she passed, each in suits and barely checking their identification. So if it was theirs then…

"This will draw less attention," she said instead of asking why, a question none of them had an answer to. Instead of continuing on a subject he realized neither of them wanted to.

He was never so grateful to her as in that moment.


	8. Hatchery

_**Chapter Seven - Hatchery**_

 _Date: 03/01/2013 Time: 16:46_

The car's lights flickered briefly as the vehicle unlocked. Makiko dashed away from them, scrambling up into the backseat. Meiko laughed, uncontrollably, at the sight of her kicking legs before taking pity on her and helping her up. Viktor's laughter joined them as he peered inside.

"Oh!" That delighted, wonder filled sound was one that made Yuuri's legs tremble because that was the sound of a perfect jump, a flawless rendition, of his eyes on Yuuri and Yuuri alone. And now it was for Digimon, now it was for something new. "Is this what they look like?"

"A few of them," Maki replied and for a moment, a jolt of envy licked up Yuuri's throat, followed by the annoying itch behind one ear. He swallowed the feeling of bile in his throat and went to see.

Makiko had already buckled herself in, arms around a brown dog-rabbit dotted in pink. The digimon did not seem to mind and had curled its ears protectively around her small arms. There was a small cream colored dog splayed out on another seat, stubby tail wiggling about as Meiko took a seat on the passenger side. Once she was seated, the dog rushed to her lap and plopped itself right down.

"You three will have to climb in back," Maki informed them and Yuuri nodded, turning his head away so he couldn't see Daigo, floating by her shoulder, small again.

Yurio made a face but complied. It was probably that or risk being seen on the street by passing people and their rapidly flashing cell phones.

Lesser of many evils.

"And don't step on me!" chimed the squeakiest voice Yuuri had heard since Takeshi had taken helium at his college graduation party. He made a face of concern and looked down to see-

A cat head. A blue cat head.

For a moment, a whole host of feelings build up in his stomach at the sight of him and then Yuuri recalled, as clear as a person could, where he had seen this digimon before.

"Hi Bearmon," he said as he sat down.

The little head hopped up to his lap. "Wanyamon now," he said in that chipper tone that kind of hurt a little. "Looks like Daigo wasn't with you either."

"No," he agreed, looking at the empty space. "He's not."

Viktor leaned against him as the doors slid closed and the car started.

That was all the grounding he needed really. At least for now.

* * *

By the time they reached the highway, Wanyamon's weight in his lap was comforting and not painful. Makkachin was splayed out on the floor in between the middle seats, panting his exhaustion. It was a good thing that they hadn't taken the train after all. Maki tossed a water bottle back to them without looking, leaving Viktor to pull his favorite contraption for long Makkachin walks. Makiko openly stared at the dog, unwilling to move from the weight of the creature on her lap but eager to pet the clearly safe animal in front of her.

Cute. Unsuitable for Hime.

But it was clear in the face and the eyes and uncontrollable curiosity. He could see Daigo in her too, in the shyness, the fixation, the slant of her mouth.

He looked away and outside. There were cars alongside them, and one had a moving plant in the back, a woman yelling from the front seat, a boy crying.

Another with a purple batpig snoozing in a car seat, a little girl slumped over it and drooling.

A college student with a red and purple cat thing.

A yellow fox splayed on the back of the trunk with finger paint over its white muzzle.

On and on, more and more.

"There's a lot, now, isn't there?"

Meiko was looking back at him from the front, face soft with familiarity. One hand remained on the plotmon (he was remembering now). "Hime-chan said when you were younger, there weren't any around."

Yuuri nodded slowly. "No, they were all just in the Digital World. They, they never managed to get through."

"Because of Homeostasis?"

Yuuri frowned and shook his head in confusion. "I… we never figured out how."

Meiko nodded slowly. "I… I did some digging. I, don't suppose you know what…" She glanced at Maki, who hadn't looked away from the road.

"Yuuri knows the basics. No one else," she replied.

" _I_ know," Makiko replied in a peevish voice.

"Yes but we always count you, Makiko. You're an invisible number."

The girl looked mollified, earning small peals of laughter. Yurio was staring at his egg, deep in thought. He watched it wobble a little, or maybe it was just the general shakiness of the road.

Meiko laughed a little once more before sobering, turning back to the front. "I've been helping Hime-chan uncover… why things happened the way they did. Why your partners needed to leave and everything. And…" She paused a moment and that was when Yurio finally chimed in.

"We don't need to hear how much you hate yourself, it's a waste of god damn time."

Yuuri made a noise of discontent. But Meiko giggled a little and did not speak again.

None of them spoke, and no one reacted to Daigo's face flickering on the windshield. So Yuuri tried his best to ignore it himself and say, "Is there a count on how many digimon are visible in the world right now?"

"The ratio is currently five to one, humans in majority," Maki replied without a lick of pause. "It's rapidly shrinking by the week, however. They will end up on the American census by the time of the next election, if the country is smart and does it early. Japan has laws currently in the works for it. It's a difficult process."

Yuuri swallowed. "Not even 25 years ago they were imaginary to everyone and now-"

"We haven't seen this shit in Russia," Yurio said, as blunt as a hammer.

Maki snorted. "You were a toddler in 2002 of course you didn't."

"What was that?!"

"Don't yell at mom!"

Yuuri winced. Yurio Plisetsky and Himekawa Maki were the worst part of his past and present colliding, no doubt about it.

Actually no, they were the second worst. The worst was the way Viktor kept staring at Yuuri, all soft smiles and utterly determined.

Never a good combination.

Yurio sat back with a huff and Maki chuckled a little. "Up until 2002, Digimon were being kept as under the radar as possible. The data was being deliberately deleted to make certain that when large scale interactions occurred, it was with more decorum than enslaving the populace and or destroying each other in a multifaceted, ultimately one-sided war." Her faint smile turned into a grimace. "Following… autumn of 2005, the worlds had no choice but to work towards coexistence. And it has been spreading from inwards. The reason you don't see it is likely due to them being, well, shot on sight."

Yurio physically jerked in his seat and Viktor cradled Makkachin's head on his knee, the frown on his face the extent of his reaction. Yuuri's stomach roiled, but he did not feel it rise. "Did, did you have to say it like that?" he asked instead. "Your daughter…"

Makiko tilted her head. "Mom warned me Lopmon could be hurt," she declared, even as Meiko sat stiffly in the front. "Could die even. It's important to know, so I can treasure my friend. He's not a goldfish I can ignore."

Yuuri glanced at Maki now, who only shook her head. "You're right about that," he said after a few moments. "Still, you shouldn't have to hear that."

"I'm seven," the girl said, peevish. "Not four."

"You're definitely seven," Viktor agreed. But his eyes were on Yurio as the blond teenager sat further back in the seat. "Are you certain that's what's happening? That is my home you're accusing, after all." And no matter how much you hated the politics of it, he had still been allowed to marry Yuuri there.

"It's happening all over the world," Maki said simply. "People in all countries would rather show their children violence, rather than tolerance. It's just easier to hide when there's a lot of snow around."

Meiko coughed and smiled a little. "The GPS…"

Maki glanced at it and sighed in relief. "The lane is clear."

The car ride continued in silence. That was broken by the radio and consequently, Yurio complaining about the foul performed by Yagami Taichi in a college soccer match. For some reason, this got Meiko into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, uhm, nothing," she said in lieu of explaining.

Yuuri couldn't help but notice her ears were distinctly pink.

* * *

The van jolted and Yuuri awoke with a start. The Wanyamon in his lap yawned, having not even moved from his comfortable spot.

"Finally found a parking spot," Yuuri heard Maki grumble underneath Yurio's whispered cursing and Makiko's yawns. "The inn always this crowded Yuuri?"

"It is when they know we're coming," Yuuri mumbled. That meant Takeshi had decided not to make a secret of it which meant his parents knew, the whole town knew and they were bringing digieggs into a crowd, what if they hatched? Oh god, what if they hatched?

"Great," Maki muttered, turning off the van.

Viktor stretched and Makkachin put his nose on Viktor's downturned palm. "They'll love you," he told her in that familiar "I know what I'm talking about" voice. Which he always did with this sort of thing. Unfortunately.

She raised an eyebrow and nodded, her face thoughtful, or at least unwilling to disagree on what wasn't neutral territory.

"She's never met my parents," Yuuri whispered as Makiko hopped out of the car, Lopmon settled on her head.

Viktor turned this over his mind. "Why ever not?"

Yuuri grimaced, but was spared from answering by the door slamming open and three individual blurs using him as a landing pad. Makkachin was saved by virtue of him jumping away like a rabbit more than a dog, but Viktor's legs were not so lucky and he nearly fell forward. Thankfully, the van caught him instead.

Yuuko's clear, irritated voice came from inside. "Axel, Loop, Lutz, really?! You know better!"

"We're just checking his balance mom," Lutz said with a gleeful grin that Yuuri knew had nothing to do with balance and everything to do with humiliation. These kids had way too much time on their hands.

Thankfully, Yuuko stomped out, disbelief etched into her face. "If you were worried about his balance, you'd have gone for his chest. Little pranksters." She crossed the walk in a few quick strides and helped Yuuri up. "Welcome home, Yuuri, Viktor-san, Yurio-kun!"

Yurio grunted a greeting and Viktor beamed, engulfing her in conversation long enough for the bags to be slid out of the trunk and Makkachin to make himself at home on Maki's foot. Maki didn't seem to mind. In fact, looking at the dog was probably saving her from looking at Yuuko. And Yuuri felt so many things about that and all of them were accurate.

Of course, she did notice. Yuuri watched his friend's shoulders go back, stiff as a board and wide-eyed at the sight of her.. "Oh… I didn't… I didn't think you'd come."

"You asked," Maki replied, voice more stilted than his first attempt to ice skate.

The two women looked at each other for a moment. Then Yuuko grabbed Maki in the tightest hug imaginable. Yuuri was surprised to not hear the sound of broken ribs.

Yurio took that opportunity to bolt inside and escape (and likely steal a pork cutlet bowl while he was at it.), followed by the children. Even a curious Makiko had scampered away, Lopmon on her head. Yuuri made and grabbed Viktor's hand, steadying himself. The calloused fingers coiled around his own, smoothing the bunched up tension on the top of his knuckles. Yuuri glanced back, into his smile, and smiled back.

Finally, Yuuko let go and turned to usher them all in, sending a whirlwind of confused Meiko and the bags with her.

"She's happy," Yuuri mused as he brought up the rear. "At least, on the outside."

Viktor hummed his agreement, Makkachin walking lazily between them. "It's a bit of a reunion. Those get harder as you age, you know, Yuuri."

"Not if you live in a small town and so do they," Yuuri countered. Then he sighed. "Which also means all of Hasetsu's going to hear about this by the morning."

Viktor laughed. "I love that about this place, Yuuri! It's over once they hear about it."

… There was that, wasn't there?

They hurried inside, shivering from the cold. And for a moment, Yuuri was just awash with the friendly buzzing warmth of the inn, his sister's phone loud against the table, his mother chattering loudly at whomever as she carried food through the room. His father, chatting with the old men and women who came around.

And then his name. Cheered, enthusiastically, through mugs and cups and plates and bowls. And Viktor's name, cheered and welcomed, like they're late for dinner rather than celebrating triumph. Celebrating what they were being on a public stage, and being accepted for it.

Yuuri felt the tears loom close to falling, swallowed them a little, and then gave in and wept with joy.

"Crybaby," Yurio said without heat. Viktor gave them both a small, proud nudge. Yuuri laughed, the sound wet and unforgettable.

For a moment, the Digital World was forgotten, and he could remember just what he and Viktor had accomplished that night. His heart swelled with pride, and yet he was also, somehow, very tired.

But he threw it aside as Takeshi swung an arm over his shoulder and grinned. "Look at the champ."

Yuuri managed a sheepish laugh, and let himself be drawn in.


	9. Blurry

_Interlude - Blurry_

Date: 02/28/13 Time: 21:54

Wrangling the triplets to bed was somehow, harder than it should have been this time around. They wanted to replay Yuuri and Viktor's skate the whole night long, commenting on where they could have stepped and the one missed turn that they would help Viktor to painfully correct, Viktor's performance had been flawless in their own words.

Yuuko was starting to wish she had gotten their kids into music instead. At least they could sleep to that and not have to watch the screen a majority of the time. But then, they were the ones at fault for it. If they hadn't been in love with skating for so long, their children wouldn't be themselves.

But today they just hadn't had the patience for it. It had taken Takeshi promises of longer time in the rink to get them at least to lay down. They had given up on the tablet being shared between the three of them. It was a losing battle.

They had, however, managed to hide the egg in some old clothes and put it in a closet that no one was using and get Axel to stop asking so many questions about it. Because all they were doing were making Takeshi remember his back against a wall of trees and the screeching of his partner as he ran forward and the red drenched bone of Yuuko's leg and-

Takeshi took a step forward, stumbling out of the vivid image in the dark and into their kitchen. Yuuko sat there, at her computer. A small calculator was next to it as always, followed by the budget.

"How is it looking?" He didn't sit down beside her at first,

"It'd be better than great if the kids didn't eat electricity," she said with a small sigh. "We need to set a time limit on those things."

"They'd just duct tape the tablets to their hands," Takeshi pointed out in what he thought was a perfectly reasonable voice as he doled out the soup. "Like to see them pass class like that."

Yuuko laughed, but it was a little more shrill than it should have been. For a few minutes the two of them gulped down soup in silence, barring the tiny clicks from the old calculator keys on their last legs.

Eventually, Yuuko had to speak. "What do we do about the egg?"

Takeshi bit his lip, thought about it. "It'll be a while if it hatches so long as nobody touches it." But this was their house and they had conniving devilspawn for children. They would be all over it in a matter of hours.

"And we'd still have to deal with it." Yuuko ground her teeth together for an instant. "Are they… are they going to be like us do you think?"

Running through forests and fields and deserts, making food from things on the floor, fishing by diving into the water, sometimes barely sleeping because large teeth gleaming in the dark thanks to the roaring fire, real or imagined.

"Like hell." Takeshi said, with fervor. "Over my head body."

Yuuko would have rolled her eyes at the bold declaration but honestly she didn't have the time or the energy. "If it was though, wouldn't the digimon be hatched or… wouldn't they have been just dragged through? That's what happened to us…"

"That God lady could be operating differently from before. Building up trust then…"

Yuuko bit her lip. "Hime-chan called earlier. She would know best what that program's modus operandi is… and she said this wasn't it."

Takeshi twitched and shook his head. "Then what is this?"

Yuuko didn't have an answer. Instead, she went back to the frantic, never ending money count.

Then, when their food was long cold and they had given up, a video message icon clicked into view.

Yuuko featured for Takeshi, panic filling her throat. Maybe it was just spam. Or… or…

Before he could say no, she clicked on it. On screen, a young man appeared, brown eyes weary, suit neatly pressed, hair carefully brushed back. If it wasn't for the crooked little smile on his face, Yuuko would have thought he was at the very least on his way to thirty-five.

The man on screen hesitated a moment, looking to the right. Then he turned back. "Sorry, sorry, this is my uh, first call like this. My name is Yagami Taichi. I am, well, I, I guess you could call me the leader of the current, active Chosen Children. People like you used to be. My boss asked me to talk to you, because unlike her I don't have a kid, and I'll need to get used to this. We wanted someone to debrief you."

"On?" Takeshi prodded like their blood wasn't ice, their hearts beating too slowly because holy _fuck_ there had been people after them, hadn't there? Up in the sky, shining like stars? Up in the sky, ready to fight and with nowhere else to look because even finish you could skate in the dark, you couldn't write much, couldn't work and with a broken hand you could do nothing.

And back then the envy and pain had risen up, made gouges of guilt in his chest because he could do something if his partner hadn't left him.

 _Like what,_ he always reminded himself at the time, as he had in 1999 when the fear had made him a ball in the corner of the locker room, in 2005 when when he'd actually run outside and smacked a goblin to it's knees. Like nothing.

Now, years later with a good few kids on his knees, he had a very good idea of what he would do and how.

And the rest of him was just plain old sad, sad that his friends and himself fighting for their lives had not been enough. All the force in the world might never be enough.

"On why your kids have partners." The young man scratched his head."Now, uh, just so you know, we _have not_ figured out why your partners aren't back yet. We think it's because they went back to their places taking care of the universe and everything, so they'll be a bit longer, but we dunno. Sorry about that."

"I don't think we'd be able to feed them anyway."

Yuuko's quip was met with a slightly wider grin. "Unless you guys out eat my agumon, you can do it if you stretch that budget." He winked and continued on, once even Takeshi had laughed. "Anyway." His voice sobered. "Unless you're talking with your other Chosen or anything, what I say here can't leave this room. I can't tell you unless that's all right."

For a moment, the two of them looked at each other, the conversation they were having with their eyes all too familiar to Taichi, who was at his desk, scratching behind Agumon's eyeholes, too old to be completely blindsided or unprepared or any of those things really. He had seen his parents make this same look. They both looked at him and nodded together.

"Okay, simply put, the world is evolving." At Yuuko's snort, Taichi snorted wearily. "I know. " He shook his head. "But up until 2005, we could get away with lying and deleting information about Digimon, relying on people mostly forgetting all of these things. But then Himekawa Maki-san, my boss, was pulled into a plan to reboot both worlds, and that made things way too big to be hidden."

Yuuko visibly shivered. Not just because that was their friend, and that meant she had hurt the creatures they had been brought in to save, but because that was still clear in their heads, no matter how much Yuuri had been clearly trying not to think about it.

God. How was Yuuri handling it? Sure, they'd know tomorrow night, but that didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things? His voice had sounded calm, but that could easily be a lie because he didn't want to worry them. Even with Viktor, that idiot was probably on twelve.

"Anyway…" Taichi continued even with Takeshi not listening. "Because of that, we can't just… look away from this. So the department I'm in is working to make sure the transition is smooth. We can't control who gets a digimon and who doesn't. All of that said, over time, we're getting more and more sure that Homeostasis, who chose us, is not trying to make new soldiers. I don't even think they're trying to do anything other than leave us alone."

"How do you know?" Yuuko's voice was not trembling, even though Takeshi could feel the table shaking. "How are you sure?"

Yagami Taichi's eyes narrowed. "Because it possessed Maki and told me, to my face, when I asked."

"She." yuuko corrected before she could quite control herself. "They… She always told us, it was a girl…"

Taichi's expression seemed to soften, briefly, before that vaguely professional air crossed his face once again. "What else can I tell you?"

Takeshi leaned forward. "There's a lot you can tell us, and we've got all night."

They didn't but this looked like a graduate student. What was the harm of one more all nighter for him?


	10. In the Forge

_**Chapter Eight - In the Forge**_

 _Date: 03/02/13 Time: 04:17_

"Yuuri!"

The whisper was too close to his ear, tickling the earlobe and making him wince and groan. He wanted to be asleep. After the long plane ride, the terrible open landscape. There was no way he could stay up for what sounded like a long, painful conversation. What time was it anyway?

"Yuuri!" repeated the voice, soft and comforting, familiar. Who was it… no, no no, he was supposed to be asleep!

"Yuuri!" He heard Viktor say. He sighed and opened his eyes, yawning. After a few moments of bleary blinking, he took in his surroundings. Viktor was at the foot of his bed, Makkachin beside him. There was no leash in his hand, and Viktor wasn't bundled up for outside. In fact, he was still in his pajamas.

It used to be embarrassing, to have the real flesh and blood skater stark against the large, extravagant posters and the mess of "too long out, too tired to clean" days. Now, he just had gotten used to it.

"What?" he grumbled. "What time is it Viktor… I have practice in a few minutes."

Viktor leaned over him, close enough for a kiss. He didn't take one, which Yuuri minded a little (well, since he had woken him up a kiss was at least a little bit of a recompense, right?), but instead he smiled and took the hand Yuuri had outside of the covers. "They're _hatching,_ Yuuri."

Yuuri stared vacantly letting the words process like molasses through honey. Then he bolted out of bed and down the hallway. Makkachin was at his heels and Viktor, laughing, strolled along.

Oh god oh god oh god it was happening. In the house. Alone.

"What about Yurio?" Yuuri asked in as loud a whisper as he dared. "Is his?"

"He hasn't said anything." Viktor grinned, that small echo of pride all over him. "I think he's still asleep."

 _That or if he did he wouldn't tell us._ Which was fair. They weren't his parents, but his fellow competitors and egg hatching was sacred anyway… well it was for your partner. Not that he had told Viktor that.

They crept past the girls' rooms, Maki and her daughter's room door being slightly ajar. The sound of breathing was only loud to Yuuri's ears, because you had to hear to catch three little hellions never mind one of hers. As they passed, he saw a small light, the light of a laptop screen. Yuuri paused and poked his head in.

Makiko slept on in the futon and Maki sat up in bed, expression furrowed into a frown. Yuuri dared to knock on the open door frame. She looked up, and the light of the screen brought the circles under her eyes into sharp relief.

"Yuuri." She said, not like a question. "Why are you awake?"

 _Why are you?_ He wanted to say but couldn't. Instead he grinned blearily. "Apparently Viktor's egg is hatching."

Her emotions flitted across her face and then slid into blankness. "I see."

"Do you want to watch?" Viktor asked over Yuuri's head. "I've never seen it before, I don't know what's going to happen!"

She paused, fingers stealing over Makiko's hair. The girl curled in closer, her partner comfortably embracing her in the same way, only with her ears. Then she shook her head. "No, this is something you two should share."

Viktor didn't wilt, not exactly, but there was that familiar slump in his shoulders that led to the kicked puppy stance. He must have learned it from Makkachin. He had to have. "We could have used your expertise," he said with a fond smile and that sparkle in his eye.

Yuuri did not trust that sparkle. At all.

He gave Viktor's shoulder a hefty tug and dragged him away from the room with a lowly spoken "good night", heading back down to Viktor's room. Which normally they'd share but in this inn, there was about as much space as a broom closet. There were some beds that Viktor was fine to sprawl upon with another person around, but these weren't the sleeping places for that.

Viktor had shut his door before coming in here, which was good because the wobbling egg was letting out a steady glow, sitting upright on the second, untouched pillow. Yuuri quickly shut the door behind him. Makkachin boofed at him in greeting, tail swishing back and forth. It stuck straight up, along with every single fur, at the sound of a crack.

Viktor vaulted across the room, reaching the bed at record time. Yuuri moved quickly beside him, curling up close. His eyes scolded him for it but he couldn't bring himself to care. The heat from the egg warmed his chest and all the way down to his toes.

There was another loud crack and the shell split properly down the side and soon, something white began to poke out of the shell.

Yuuri moved against Viktor, forcing them both into a more comfortable position. This could be a well, if this was anything like birds.

Maybe because it was in the human world but it was a lot longer than the instantaneous explosion this time. Instead, as the sun came out, the shell fell off and formed in the light before their eyes into what looked like a cradle, leaving what looked like a white dog's head with pink ears. It yawned slowly, revealing tiny, likely harmless fangs and a pair of sparkling beady black eyes that locked right onto Viktor at once. Like magnetism.

Yuuri waited.

"Viktor!" barked the small animal, voice high and warm and expectant.

And Yuuri felt the moment Viktor gave in, felt the familiar, painful, ripcord tight connection of a second soul tying to you without hesitation or resistance.

He bowed his head as the creature bounded over, and tried not to cry in frustration.

But of course Viktor noticed and introduced him easily and freely. Yuuri did his best so smile and be polite but now the loss was a keener ache than ever. He hadn't even been able to say a proper goodbye, just a "We have work to do now, your time is up here. Rest." from them and that had been the end.

And now was he, were they expected to do it all over again?

* * *

By the time noon came around, the self-proclaimed Paomon was hungry and they had gotten more sleep. So there was no excuse not to get up and find the most homestyle meal on the face of the planet to devour.

And Yuuri's mother was more than capable of providing one. They had a large stock from winter still, as their best times were around now, during skating season. Their little inn was the best place to see sports, and have the tourists come about and argue with the locals.

So the sight of a small dog head practically inhaling a full bowl and spitting out the ceramic, though unusual, only led to Hiroko to the biggest smile since Viktor's first arrival and another large bowl.

"He certainly packs it in doesn't he?" she said over the sound of slurping and delighted barking. Makkachin was much more sedate, but then he got a doggy bowl. Yuuri had no idea if a paomon could actually eat dog food and not get sick. Better to be safe than sorry on what they vacuumed into their stomachs.

"Digimon are like that, especially here in the human world," Yuuri replied before he could stop himself, and it wasn't like Viktor could say anything anyway. "They need more fuel so they're not feeding off of us. They could eat electricity but that's unreliable. Hawkmon… he tried once and got sick."

He took a slurp of noodles. What? He was on vacation. When he swallowed, Yuuri caught a glimpse of his mother, an unfamiliar expression on her usually warm and pleasant face. "Mom?" He felt a sudden urge to flee the table and it only grew the more she looked him in the eye.

Her eyes flicked towards Viktor and he almost let out a sigh of relief.

Then she said, very gently, "I wish you had talked to us about this, Yuuri."

From anyone else, from perhaps his father, the words would have made him angry, close to belligerent, as close as he ever got to it. From her, and perhaps from Viktor, they had only served to make the sadness, the nostalgia, everything in him deflate into resignation. "I… I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to forget it." Yuuri paused, searching for a way to say this delicately without being wrong. "I… no one would have believed me. Or Yuuko-chan, or Takeshi-kun or… we were a bunch of kids who daydreamed about skating on a live stage in front of millions of people. Nobody would have believed us."

He saw the hurt in her eyes before it sunk into her face, and yet he knew it was true. A small town for Japan with few people and no secrets. Three crazy kids would be all it would be and it would be gossip in everyone's ear for years. Better to say the heat hurt them or they got kidnapped and the kidnapper escaped town. Real things, tangible actual fears to prey upon. There were books about those.

"More importantly though," he said, feeling the words needing to be said. Viktor's hand was kneading into the small of his back and Yuuri had no idea how he could repay him any more than he had. "I thought the Digimon were gone, that they wouldn't be coming back. THat it was over. Only now did I learn that… that I was wrong, that it wasn't going to end like that. I'm still… I'm still coming to terms with it." Yuuri took a final deep breath. "I don't know if I'll be ever able to really talk about it, but, but when I am, can I count on you, and dad, and Viktor to hear me out?"

There was a moment of silence, a moment of _process_. Then Viktor laughed. "Listen to him. As if we wouldn't."

His mother continued to look like stone. Then she laughed as well. "Of course Yuuri, of course." She leaned over and pressed him into a hug and Yuuri let himself lean into it.

The moment was of course, immediately broken by a loud burp and the sound of the bowl hitting the edge of the table.

"I'm full!" The digimon declared, pink ears flapping as he jumped back onto Viktor's knees. He earned a delighted ear scratch, followed by another casual sniff from Makkachin. The old dog seemed to take the pup head as a young dog who needed to be protected, hence the even closer proximity of the poodle.

"After two cutlet bowls?" Yuuri couldn't help but whistle. "Those are better than I thought. I thought it would take at least four of them."

"I just hatched," Paomon grumbled. "Give me time! I'll get better."

Hiroko giggled. "We'd better get more customers then. Time to schedule another event, right Yuuri?"

Yuuri let out a sheepish chuckle. "Right…"

What had he just gotten himself into?

* * *

"You could have invited us to the funeral, you know."

Of all the ways for the four of them to meet up and talk again, Takeshi really could have started it out better.

To her credit, Maki looked about as offended at his comment as Yuuko did embarrassed by it. She elbowed him in the ribs as Maki replied, without a flicker or change in expression. "I was giving birth at the time of it, forgive me for not giving you front row seats. I would think you had better things to be dealing with."

"We invited you to our wedding." Takeshi sat back, seltzer water can set down a little too hard.

Maki's eyes widened a little. "Did you? I never received an invite. Or… much of anything really."

"You… didn't?" Yuuri interrupted before Takeshi's ears could turn pink. "I mean, we didn't send much, but I managed to find your address in the phone book and send you a card. I think…" It had only been once, to celebrate what he had thought was her graduation from middle school. He had sent one to Daigo too, he thought, but he hadn't received a reply.

Maki nodded thoughtfully, as if she had an answer, but she didn't quite want to voice it. "I would suppose that was when my parents tightened their leash on me and… when Gennai was getting interested in my well-being."

"Creep." Takeshi muttered, appearing mollified now. "The hell was the matter with him?"

"Data corruption, I suspect," Maki admitted. "I think there is more to the story of course, but the longer he went, the more his data and the copy's were difficult to discern. That was what made the plan work so well."

Takeshi scowled and swallowed. All three of them reared back a moment, because Takeshi had range when he spat, a dangerous range. Only when he sipped his drink again did they lean forward, watching him warily still. "Still. It sucks. It could have been any of us. Why was it you?"

"I have no idea."

Yuuko raised an eyebrow. "You do."

Maki shifted in her chair and Yuuri looked away from her, to think. It was true, it could have been any of them. Just because Bakumon was _dead_ didn't make any of their partners were within reach. It could have been any of them. As if their digimon just leaving without a word was somehow fine and dandy.

He was still glad it hadn't been him. He had no idea what he would have done in her position.

"Because all of you were much closer than Daigo and I would easily be." Maki sighed. "One person is easier to convince than three."

They sat at the table for a moment and Yuuri had a sudden, fervent hope that Viktor was properly distracting the children in the onsen and not listening outside the door like he would be in this situation.

Then Yuuri happened to glance to Takeshi's right. Daigo was sitting seiza, suit bloody, face pale.

And for some reason, the sight of him made Yuuri sit up straight and look right at him. Because they were all together and he just, there was something so wrong about it, so sick and gross and awkward.

Maybe it was just that guilt, his own guilt, reflected in their leader's face.

"Gang's all here," he said, and did not look away.


	11. The End of a Circle

_Warning for death, blood, ptsd, miscommunication, suffering._

* * *

 _ **Chapter Nine - The End of a Circle**_

 _Date: 03/02/2013 Time: 15:12_

Yuuri felt everyone staring at him and it was like being on stage and he didn't mind, the irritation swelling like a buzz of bees. He felt Daigo staring as well, his brown eyes wide and hurt and resigned. Yuuri stared at him a moment more. Then he looked back at Takeshi and Yuuko. He did not look at Maki, because he was afraid of what he would see when he looked back at her.

"Daigo has been haunting me since Maki called me. Or around then." Because there was no point in lying, no point in holding back about this. He was right there. "And he won't communicate with her, and he won't talk to me. He's just here, miserable." And he wanted to say it was for no reason but it was, it was and he knew it but-

He was still just so angry. At himself, at the digital world, at all of them. At the changing world. That in the span of hours, of days, he was no longer on top of the world but a small speck in the black hole that was his past.

"We might all be able to see him," Yuuri finished, feeling the puffing in his chest deflate. The feeling of youth and joy and yearning for justice was starting to ebb. "But even if we can't, he's here, we're… we're all together. And we should have been from the start, I think… for all our sakes. And because that's his kid out there and she'll never meet him and-"

"And because I'm here."

Wanyamon hopped into the room, shutting the door with his tail. (Now that was dexterity, where was that in Paomon?) He kept hopping, past Daigo, onto Maki's lap and then onto the table. "I'm here and Daigo's following you. Trying to bring us all together, I want to say. Because he can't do this alone, none of you can. But most importantly because he doesn't want to see the obvious."

Yuuri wanted to say it, he wanted so badly to just blurt it out, but then Maki's eyes, just once, flicked towards where Daigo sat. Where the blood was spreading.

Yuuri jumped at the sound of Yuuko screaming and for a moment, he didn't understand why. And then he did.

The blood on Daigo's stomach was sinking into his pants and onto the tatami. And it just kept spreading, towards her, towards them, in a puddle.

"Fuck," Takeshi whispered. "What the fuck, Daigo? What happened to you?"

Daigo stared at them all, horrified, too terrified to lie. "A cave in. And an explosion."

Yuuri dared to glance at Maki now, who hadn't looked away. She looked back at him. Then Wanyamon coughed.

"Well, now that we've established the obvious of, you matter to your friends, you dingle, and that's why you're not entirely dead and gone,," said the cathead. "Can we get back to the part on how you all get your partners back?"

They all looked at the digimon. "I had no idea that was on the agenda," Yuuko said, managing to sound unimpressed.

Unfortunately, Wanyamon had always been difficult to impress. "It is, fortunately, otherwise I wouldn't be here and we wouldn't be able to help him." He flicked his tail. "And because you all are important to us. And I'd like to think we are important to you. And because it'll be suspicious if you don't have them." He turned his whole body over to face Yuuri. "Specifically, we need you and your mate, Katsuki."

"Us?!" Yuuri felt the anger, the familiar buck of "I will be used again" rising hard and fast. It was just enough to Trump the embarrassment of what Wanyamon had just called Viktor.

Wanyamon nodded firmly. "Yes. Homeostasis would rather us all work together and organically form the connections needed and let the worlds and their populations settle themselves. We Holy Beasts disagree. We believe you humans need a final push forward. A sign of our good faith after all the destruction we have caused. Will you help us make that push, Yuuri?"

* * *

That night, Yuuri found himself on the ice rink. He drifted alone, pausing to turn and jump once in a while. It was aimless, because anything too complicated would probably cause him to ram his head into the wall and break his face. Which he couldn't afford to do on a break. It would get so many, so many letters and tweets and he did not need that on top of everything else.

Because how did you handle this really? How did you handle being told you need to be the symbol of the future? Yuuri honestly did not want to. He skated for his own, personal reasons. He didn't want to, nor need to, in his opinion skate for theirs.

 _Not even to see Hawkmon?_

His mind asked him this, and it was almost pitiful enough that Yuuri believed it was his own voice. But really, it didn't sound like him at all. It sounded like Yurio in that bathroom, kicking his door and demanding to be heard and acknowledged and wedged so deep into his brain it gave him nausea.

And he couldn't be firm enough to say, it wasn't enough to see him. He couldn't close his eyes and imagine the none-too-kind nips at his ankles and rough feathers covering his eyes to the fire and not think, god, I don't miss him at all.

His right to see his friend was being held hostage. Like he didn't deserve it. Like he shouldn't have his friend around.

Yuuri did leap, couldn't stop himself. He landed a little too hard and kept on going through the twinges in his ankles, the way his stomach churned. His stamina was his best quality, that and his stubbornness. So he skated through it. At the very least, he wanted to think everything over until he wasn't thinking anymore and all he had in his head as the steady sound of the music from the old, battered laptop.

And he tried, god's he tried. But by the time the laptop was at another song, and one he quite disliked, it was like hornets had taken up residence in his head and they stung his feet. Yuuri stopped and slumped back against the edge of the rink. He closed his eyes, turned himself to breathing slowly in and out, trying to stop thinking.

There was a loud huffing sound, a puff of air mixed with a curse word. Yuuri opened his eyes to see Yurio stepping on to the rink. On the other side, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket (looked like one of yuuko's old ones, it was so patchy), was a giant dandelion head. It blinked large orange eyes at him and let out the most adorable squeak Yuuri had ever heard.

Yurio grumbled at the sound, but it was half-hearted at best. He was won over too, Yuri could see the sheen in his eyes. And it didn't hurt, nope.

Yurio said nothing to him at first. He merely stepped out onto the ice and took off, looping past and then stepping too light for words. He was still as graceful as ever, perhaps despite or because of the gradual drag of puberty. He didn't have long before he would have to restart and change himself, everyone knew that.

Yuuri could however, watch Yurio and think it wouldn't really matter. Yurio would take Viktor's throne someday, maybe later than he anticipated, but he would never the less. It would be amazing to watch. If and when he got over not getting to himself.

… What was he talking about? He still very well _could._ That may have been what Wanyamon was banking on but that didn't mean he shouldn't. Or couldn't.

There was a scraping sound as Yurio stopped in front of him, breathing hard. "You weren't even paying attention to it," he grunted.

Yuuri frowned. Was he meant to be? "Sorry," he said, and he meant it. "I was just busy thinking about-"

"Not you " Yuuri grunted his annoyance and pointed to the blanket bundle. "That." Said dandelion had its eyes firmly shut, and based on the movement of the bundle, was out cold.

Yuuri turned back to him. "Popomon?"

"That what it's called?" Yurio made a face. "Yeah that. It hatched and got she'll in my breakfast." He snorted. "Can't even talk."

"Some can." Yuuri's face screwed up. "Some babies can't and grow able to. You're lucky he doesn't speak in acid bubble."

The smaller's face turned a mixture of sick and fascinated at the idea. "Acid what?"

"Baby Digimon use bubbles to speak and defend themselves," Yuuri said slowly, trying to remember all of what Hawkmon had said. "They tend to hatch in villages with caretakers, because outside of it, they aren't very strong. Not all Babies do that, but it affects their growth I think if they don't. Changes their evolution line."

Hawkmon had been fascinated at the time about it, about any knowledge he could obtain. When their fight was over, he had confided to Yuuri, he had intended to go traveling to find the reclusive Digimon professor, claimed to know the secret of all things.

 _I will even allow you to join me,_ he had proclaimed at the time as they trudged through the desert, clear-eyed and devoted.

At the time, it had been a mix of disheartening and painful. His partner had had a dream that he had been assumed to not be a part of, an after that no one really wanted to admit was real or possible because that meant they knew what they were doing.

Not that it had mattered. In the end, his partner had become a good and he had become a public icon, going their separate ways. And maybe Hawkmon had been talking out of desperation, against an ending he had likely known when none of the others had and he… he had no idea what to do with that information. He just… he had wanted this to be all right.

And what was it now? What was it beyond a ploy to get his name?

 _Well what else are you going to do with it?_

"Katsuki."

It was rare that Yurio used his name at all, so he took it as what it was and looked over at the smaller teen. "Yeah?"

"What are your plans for next season?"

"I- what?" Yuuri almost literally floundered. Everything fell out of his brain. "This season?! Why would I tell you that?"

Yurio shrugged. "I figured you would have thought about it. Isn't that Viktor retiring soon anyway? He'd want to go out with a bang now, which means he won't have as much time to think about yours or do another couple's thing, right? You have to start thinking about it. You've got a few years left."

Yuuri was torn between gaping at Yurio's casual dismissal of the end of his career (His rival may have been giving him too much credit as is, he wasn't exactly in his prime anymore as usually his vent skating was not liable to cause him to hurt himself or pull something.) And lambasting him for assuming he would dare bother Viktor with it. A part of him was wondering how the other could assume he had time to think about it at all.

That was what Wanyamon had asked him to do, to be.

In that light, it didn't sound so bad, though he had no idea where to start with it.

"I've thought about it a little," he admitted finally, after he swore those blue eyes were burning holes into his forehead. "Not as much as I've wanted to do, but it's only been a few days."

A long, overwhelming few days but a short time still.

"Che." Yurio made the sound but did not disagree. He pushed off again.

"I guess you've come up with yours?" Yuri asked, voice weak. It was a bit of a stupid question. Yurio had his coach pick, or thought about it during the current event. No matter how competitive and obsessed he was, and he surely was, there were always more competitions. More battlefields, more ice rinks. He had a long, long road ahead of him.

Meanwhile, Yuuri and Viktor had new paths to walk soon, and neither knew where to start.

When you competed in a sport, it was your life. Once you decided to go professional in anything like this, everything was a backseat. Everyone who were educated and took the sport as a scholarship, it was the opporiste. If given the opportunity the sport was the first to go. In that sense, it left pros behind as their careers careened to an end from injuries or lack of favor, or just simply aging out. And you were just left adrift. Sometimes with money but adrift all the same.

And they were in their thirties. Imagining being American football players sounded so much worse.

"I've got the basics," Yurio said blandly, circling past him and going to poke his newfound partner. "No idea what song though. Got no head for fucking sound."

"Don't swear in front of the baby." Yuuri's voice was absent. Last thing they needed was a baby Digimon yelling fuck for no reason in a silent room or a plane full of babies and impressionable youth.

"It's not like it's your kid."

"Still." He remembered when Takeshi started cursing. Bakumon had parroted him for a full five minutes while Maki had wrestled him to the floor and buried his face in the water and sand. "You'll get Yuuko on you." If he was lucky.

Yurio grumbled but did not repeat it.

Yuuri gave up his skating for today as a bad job and began to make his way to the laptop that was still playing along.

Then the ground shook and he fell. He only had time to look up before the wall exploded.


	12. Way of the World

_**Chapter Ten - Way of the World**_

 _Date: 03/02/2013 Time: 12:23_

Yagami Taichi blazed down the street, probably breaking most traffic laws and speeding regulations in the process. Oh well, his degree was in international law, not national, he could get ticketed some other time.

"Agumon!" He shouted into the car.

"I'm okay, Taichi!" His voice rang loud and clear over his head. Good! He was safe on top of the vehicle. His feet were keeping him level.

"Awesome! Do you see anything up there?" Taichi made another desperate swerve, praying he wouldn't be recognized too much as he drove. That was probably hopeless by now. He was the chosen child of courage, the hero of all or something, but most importantly he was a diplomat, and this would look like shit on his record if he failed.

Not that he was going to fail. He was older, not useless. He would get covered and save them all, get this right and not have a pile of people wondering who killed their precious sports stars from another company.

"Thank God my boss texts me updates at absurd times," he said to himself, ignoring a furious car horn. Maki didn't have a Digimon anymore but she didn't need one. She had Daigo's, had her brain still in remarkably good condition for someone who did the shit she pulled. And that was why she had warned him things were going too well.

If only he'd listened the night before. Now he was flying down another street, following her location signal and the reports blaring from his radio claiming "there was an explosion in a closed off Hasetsu at the local ice rink fifteen minutes ago."

"Shit," he whispered, and made his car cry with his deliberate ignorance on the speed limit.

There were at best just the skaters and at worst, Meiko. Which she would possibly be fine. Her partner was different now, better, less likely to murder anyone that wasn't Meiko. Much more focused. But that didn't make it easier it made things worse because-

Of a lot of things, most of which he couldn't admit to himself without feeling positively barmy.

"Crews are moving into help. However there seems to be a large object in the smoke. We cannot quite see what it is, but it does not want us to get close. There appears to be a barrier-"

"That can mean absolutely anything," he yelled into the car. "Agumon, can you see anything yet?"

"Not yet," he heard back, somewhat muffled this time. "I can smell something like the sea though!"

"Agumon, Japan is an island! it usually smells like seawater!"

"Not like this! It's thicker!"

That could mean anything at all really.

Leaving the tunnel, he drove the car to pull over a moment, needing to stop and breathe. Unfortunately, right when he did so, Taichi heard the woman's voice go high and pitched.

"There's… there is a man coming out of the smoke! He's he's _bleeding!_ And laughing and-"

There was a burst of static.

Taichi stared at his car before turning it off and jumping out of it. Locking it was only an afterthought it was a rental anyway. But he did it and held out the digivice. It still looked new, not a trace of wear or tear. It was a cold comfort.

"Agumon!" He shouted. "We're flying the rest of the way! Let's hurry!"

"Okay, Taichi!"

His partner lit up the clouds and carried him off into the sky, going as full speed as you could on a giant dragon.

Taichi wished it was faster.

* * *

Yuuri uncurled from his pained spot on the ice and coughed out dust. "Yurio?" He wheezed.

There was, thankfully, a very loud stream of curses in response. Yuuri would take that as the younger teen was alive and likely not too hurt. His ears were ringing but he could hear petrified squeaks from that same area (he thought and hoped. It was unlikely for the plant to be able to get very far otherwise. He, like most babies, probably didn't have legs.

Yuuri stumbled to his feet, sliding on the ice and stumbling in his skates. He rubbed his eyes and coughed, desperate to keep the dust out of his lungs and fight through the smoke. As he moved, there was a terrible, low groan. Not of pain, but like the shifting of a heavy weight…

 _The rink…_ _The roof!_

Whatever had hit them likely hit a support beam! He bolted across the ice, towards the sounds of strangled chirping.

"Yurio! Yurio we have to move!"

"What do you think i'm trying to do?"

Yuuri reached him then and much to his relief, there was a solid wall of bubbles popping right before his eyes. Those must have lessened the impact a little. Popomon was the most visible thing in the blurry group, followed by the blond hair of Yurio. Yuuri popped as many bubbles as he could, grateful to see the lack of red on his rival. He moved quickly and leaned to help Yurio to his feet. The teen was still cursing, lower this time, slowly. He sounded wrecked with exhaustion.

Yuuri grimaced and hefted him over one shoulder and began to mov, skating in quicky, rough jumps. The ground wobbled. There was a sound like whipping in the distance. Blades? One of the fans? A helicopter?

"Earthquake?" Yurio wheezed.

Yuuri shook his head. "Digimon. I'm sure of it. There's a hole in the building."

"Bingo!" A voice called through the smoke. It rang in his ears and made him stumble. Yuuri forced himself away from it, pushing himself to get them behind the bleachers. The doors were closer, but they were also vulnerable and visible. At least whatever hit them would have to get weakened by something else… he hoped.

He didn't want to think about that voice. He just… he couldn't. It was too familiar. It was-

"It's been a long time, lad," continued the voice with that extra edge of mockery. "Sorry I took so long, I didn't want any witnesses, you see. Did you miss me?"

Yuuri said nothing. He didn't dare risk it.

The speaker laughed. "Oh come on now. I expected a better reception than that. It's not my fault you believed every word I said. Your parents should have raised you better."

Yuuri bit his lip, the shame, guilt and pain welling up in uneven waves. Yurio manages to look up at him, bafflement likely ready to give way to anger. Yuuri breathed deeply before he whispered. "He was the one who helped us get to where we needed to go."

"I was!"

Yuuri lifted his head and there, only half a meter away, was Gennai. The ponytail was familiar, the same blue eyes, the robes almost exactly alike… but for one detail that Yuuri could only vaguely remember.

"Gennai hated black," he mused.

The man laughed. "I did say that didn't I? Well, I decided to try it out, have a wardrobe change you see. How are you, Yuuri? You seem to have done well for yourself in the real world, without your friends. It was probably easier to drop them, wasn't it? Move on and forget it all. If only you'd just ignored that phone call, things could have stayed that way. The worlds would have stayed apart."

"What do I have to do with that?" Yuuri nudged Yurio to see if he could stand. When he only swayed a little, he pressed the shivering, softly squeaking Popomon into his arms from where he'd been set on Yuuri's free shoulder. _Just keep him talking Yuuri, just keep him focused on you. This is your job remember? This is what you devoted yourself to being. Be the center of attention, Yuuri._

He squinted in the slight gloom. The black robe was stained a little around the middle, an odd dark color… red?

"You're bleeding," he said, before the man calling himself Gennai could respond. The man looked down and as he stared at it, the man laughed. Yurio was already moving away, but neither of them made a move to stop him. The doors swung in the heavy pause between them.

"That's quite new, isn't it?" He sighed. "It's your fault too. Before, we wouldn't bleed. Before we would just feel pain, get a little dirt. Sure there'd be some scratches here and there, but nothing like this. We'd crack and fall apart. But because of you humans, because of your constant interference, it's getting worse. The digital world, the creatures in it…" He took a step back and looked up at the gaping hole he'd made in the building. "We're becoming more like you and now you're just going to let it keep on going. With you, the relationship between human and Digimon is only going to expand and get worse, more thorough. You Chosen never change."

"You told us to save the world!" Yuuri exclaimed, eyes wide, legs shaking. "You told us to work together!"

"And then we separated you!" Gennai chuckled. "Too late, of course, but we couldn't have known the damage you would cause. We couldn't have thought about that with everything going on. Besides, it doesn't matter, in the end. If Maki had just done what I told her and then died peacefully, everything would have been wiped to zero. The chosen would have been dead or torn apart and we'd have had no problems. Though Daigo was a miscalculation too."

"I bet I was," Daigo muttered by Yuuri's ear. Yuuri was proud he didn't jump in his skates, so quickly was he furiously untying them. He could deal with cold feet later. "Didn't think we'd actually go along with his bullshit of "pick one or the other". Too bad, I did."

"You did!" Gennai grinned wider and Yuuri was suddenly reminded of the time Phichit tried to show him "IT" on YouTube. Was his mouth going to expand into rows and rows of fangs or something? "Which honestly, kudos to your own stupidity. It was a special brand. Too bad you couldn't just die correctly! How did you manage that anyway?"

Daigo's suit was clean, Yuuri realized, and the blood was still spreading into the robe. The ghost shook his head. "I don't know. Really."

"Well then what use are you?" Gennai waved his hand and an all too familiar serpentine form rose from the water, its golden cannon beginning to glow with white light. "I suppose you answered your own question before now-"

Yuuri froze, as his mind brought back that fall, that terrible fall from the clouds, his partner not fast enough to stop them from crashing but just fast enough to stop him from dying and that white hot light burning into his eyes.

"Katsuki!" Yurio's voice was much too far away. Was he moving? Where were they? Daigo's hand was on his arm. Or was it Viktor? He couldn't move.

Yuuri couldn't breathe. Hawkmon couldn't save him this time.

This was why he had forgotten. This was why he had run and run and run as far as he could. Hawkmon wouldn't be able to help him. He was alone. Even with Viktor, Viktor couldn't stop this.

Viktor…

 _I don't want to die,_ Yuuri thought, madly. _I don't want to die for some stupid reason like this!_

There was a loud whirring whine and the hot light seared towards him. Yuuri tried to move his leg. He failed. He yelled before he could stop himself, prepared for pain with screwed shut eyes.

But none came.

Yuuri opened his eyes. A spider web of ruby red light was spreading over his body.

"Finally!" A high pitched voice cried in the middle, where the light was pulsing the strongest. "I can't believe it took another laser to the face to call me over. What a travesty!" They paused. "Well… I suppose it's forgivable. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

Yuuri almost choked. "Ha-Hawkmon!"

The voice laughed. "Not just me, you idiot. You really think I could do this by myself? We're all here, waiting for you all to come to us again."

And he saw the other four lights, silver, gold, emerald, and sapphire, stood starkly, spreading along further and further, beyond anything Yuuri could see in this screeching color.

He watched as the laser beam exploded into little more than lightning bugs. The serpent floated there still, unharmed as the five lights settled in front of Yuuri himself. Daigo's hand was gone and he suddenly felt Viktor's hand pulling him back.

"Come on!"

Yuuri almost collapsed on him instead of ran, but he obediently bolted after his husband. The lights followed him out, the silver one zipping about.

He heard Gennai start to shout something but a brown blur rammed the man from behind. (Yuuri heard the grunt).

"Get 'em Lopmon!" shouted Makiko from up ahead. "Knock his block off!"

"How is he?" Maki demanded as the two of them reached her. She took the silver light from the air, but stared at the gold like she was afraid to blink.

"Fine," Yuuri wheezed. "I'm fine… thanks to-"

"Me," said the red light primly. "And the rest of you, I suppose. But of course, we still have to deal with big, lanky and laser prone over there."

"We can't afford to pay for this," Takeshi managed to wheeze, Lutz and Loop clutched underneath an arm each.

"Not the time, Takeshi!" Yuuko managed over Axel's head.

"Always the time!"

Maki managed to tear her gaze away from the golden light as something twinkled in the sky and Lopmon was knocked to the ground. She grabbed hold of Makiko's shirt as the girl screeched and twisted.

"This is wonderful!" Gennai coughed the words as he stumbled towards them. "All of you together, in one place… how perfect."

The laser began to charge. Yuuri grabbed Viktor's hand.

Then, two things happened, completely out of nowhere.

The first was the sight of a little girl running into Gennai and ramming him so hard they both disappeared into the air.

The second was a golden tornado ripping into the large serpent like a paper toy.

It exploded, much like its laser, into particles. The tornado ceased immediately, turning into a man that almost looked like a mechanical dragon. "Phew," it said without moving its mouth, shrinking before their eyes into something much smaller. "I told you we'd make it Taichi!"

"You did not, Agumon." A man peered around the destruction. At the sight of them all, he saluted. "Yagami Taichi, reporting in as requested."

"That may be the best timing you've ever had Yagami." Maki let Makiko go, eyes full of relief. She determinedly did not look at the golden light that was now resting by her shoulder.

"Oh thanks." the man nodded at them all. "The local authorities have been notified and there are crews headed to fix this up as we speak. We should relocate."

Maki raised an eyebrow and the man flushed. Then she almost smiled. "Fair enough. This lot needs a check up anyway."

"What about us?" came the indignant voice from the sapphire light. The silver burst, turning into the tiny cat head of Wanyamon.

It snorted. "Just turn back and be caught already."

"This isn't pokemon you know…"

Yuuri looked back at the ruby light. It didn't have eyes to stare at him but he was sure that was what was happen.

"Are you sure? He managed to say, eyes welling with tears before he could stop them.

"Are you sure?" the light countered. "This is your one life I'm walking into. I can come back a thousand, thousand times now."

Yuuri swallowed, throat dry. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say no. He wanted to say so many things, but he didn't know where to start. So he reached out and touched the light with one hand. He squeezed Viktor's in the process.

Viktor whispered. "We will make it work."

As the light transformed into little more than a pink blob with eyes, Yuuri nodded.

"You bet we will."


	13. This Way Made

_**Chapter Eleven - This Way Made**_

 _Date: 03/09/2013 Time: 11:17_

All he needed was a song.

Viktor hummed along as he looked through playlist after playlist. A sprinkling of notes, a quick hop beat, no no, these would be fun for another duet but not a solo piece.

"Viktor!" Xiaomon whined from the bed. "I'm bored!"

Viktor didn't pause from his careful thumbing on his phone as he spoke. "Well, I _did_ invite you to come listen with me. It's not my fault you decided to stay over there." He had, repeatedly, over the past week that the Bureau of whatever (the absurd name neither agent could say without snorting partway through) was cleaning up this mess.

"Well…" Xiaomon paused. "Well, you won't let me dance!"

"You can't dance very well on four feet and on my lap, Xiaomon." The very suggestion had gotten Yuuri laughing so hard he nearly dropped Pururumon onto the floor.

Xiaomon made a face, which only served to be the cutest pout Viktor had ever seen since Makkachin. It wasn't intimidating in the slightest, which was a shame. It was probably meant to be terrifying. Oh well. "I can too!"

"You fell on your way up," Viktor pointed out with a tiny smile. It really was like looking through a window in the back of a house, the longer Xiaomon spoke. Seeing him when skating was only easy and enjoyable, and not so much of his life it threatened his humanity, it was like a fond look back on the old days.

Not that he was old. At all. He had all gray hairs from birth that didn't mean _anything._

"I'm better now." Xiaomon's utter self-assuredness about this fact was endearing now, if he stayed like this much longer, well…

There had to be digimon obedience classes surely. Makkachin had needed very few, but Makkachin also couldn't talk. So.

Viktor grinned all the wider and sat up, briefly abandoning his phone. (He saw the stubby tail wag and contained a laugh.) "Is that so?" He leaned forward, much like he did when Yuuri was about to do exactly what everyone was sure he couldn't. "PRove it."

And much like the Viktor of early competitions, Xiaomon sure did try. Yuuri walked into him trying to do just that, dancing on four paws and skidding about on Viktor's bed. It had been his stomach at first, but Viktor had laughed too much it was actually quite unstable. Even the proud little pup had giggled at himself for a second there.

"I wondered what the noise was about." Poromon's disgruntled voice came from Yuuri's shoulder. He was such a nasty, uptight little thing sometimes. Well no, not uptight. More, well-to-do, proper, unafraid. But at the same time, there was something feral lodged deep within his eyes, something prepared to die for whatever was needed, to do what was necessary.

In this light, it was easy to see what Yuuri had been afraid of, deep down in the end.

"I was hoping it'd be less… strange."

"Not everyone has been reincarnated Poromon." Yuuri's quiet voice was quiet but not unwelcome. Or chastising. He was patting the pink ball of feathers much in the way Viktor had loved to tease Yurio (and still did when the boy seemed to be puffing up a bit too much), only his was much more genuine and gentle. It was absurd, in a sense. "He is a baby."

"Am not," Xiaomon barked, only proceeding to prove his point.

Poromon let out a grunt that was very much like a chirp. "I suppose." He dragged out the last word like you would food from off of a skewer. ",But what about your own human here? He is… quite unruly."

Viktor laughed outright. His family would never call him unruly to his face, merely strong willed and even somewhat selfish. Which were both fair claims. Not that anyone else here would either. Poromon was just being the exception to all of the rules wasn't he? It was rather funny actually. "I suppose I must look like it. Is there a problem with that?"

Yuuri glanced at him, that familiar, nervous smile on his face. Was there something actually wrong, he wondered? He hoped he was supposed to be pushing the buttons on this poor bird. Otherwise he was offending someone for no reason.

The ball of feathers puffed up a moment. Then he shrank down, disgruntled. "I suppose not."

Viktor beamed. "Wonderful!" He looked back at Yuuri, whose lips were twitching so hard they might be spasming. "What are you doing here, Yuuri? I thought you were going to out to lunch." Since they'd been finally let free after the unstable barrier thing or whatever it was was resolved, takeshi and yuuko had offered to take him out and let their partners roam about in the Homeland their friends had never seen.

"We we're," Yuuri agreed. "Yuuko wanted me to get you, because Digimon need exercise as they get older. And also I had a thought. I wanted you to know it first, to hear what you thought."

"Oh?" Viktor's insides warmed as they always did now, whenever Yuuri turned to him for his opinions, his feelings, his fears. Even the sorrowful negative ones, the wild ones that set the heart aflame and led it towards stupid and terrible decisions. Love, he realized, had its place. And its place was well earned with him. "What is it?"

Yuuri pulled Poromon into his hands. The Digimon did not even twitch until he was down. Then he settled to stare at Viktor with the intensity that Viktor did know well and envied at times when it was directed away from him. Yuuri inhaled slowly, and let out a shaky, embarrassed exhale.

"I have… ideas for this season."

Viktor put his electronics away at once, the coach that he had been painstakingly building in him one step at a time coming to the front. He wished for his jacket, for the distance. He settled for Xiaomon sitting in his lap with confusion wrote into his adorable features.

"You have." Not a question. Of course not.

Yuuri nodded. "At first, I thought it was going to be fear. Or grief." Because, Viktor knew, that had been all Yuuri was feeling beneath his flashes of cheer and his attempts to cheer on them all over their partners, trying to help them.

"I think I almost settled on acceptance."

There was nothing to do but move forward with what you had and what you could do with it. You could not change the world around you without accepting yourself.

"But." Yuuri smiled and it was as beautiful as his face in concentration, in the rhythm of what was, what could be and would be. "I have a better idea. And I need your help choosing the music."

Viktor smiled himself now, the warmth inside of him curling into flames. "Of course, Yuuri. I'm your coach. Of course I'll help you."

"After lunch," Yuuri prompted a second later.

Viktor grinned. "Of course." After all he was being allowed to intrude on something sacred, something private. The least he was going to do was enjoy this.

Xiaomon let out a groan. "Do you mean we gotta listen to more boring music now?"

All of them laughed, even Poromon.

 _I guess this means it's time for a press conference,_ Viktor mused.

After it couldn't do for his husband to one up him right?

"Unless you have a better idea," Viktor offered. And the response he got was a mischief filled grin.

"I've got just the thing."

* * *

This van ride was much more cheerful than the last. It was also more crowded but Maki could live with that. It was a discordant noise of happy people (and Digimon) chattering and getting ready for something fun, normal, doable. They were sounds she had assumed she would never have lived through, whether her plan had worked or not.

 _Well,_ she thought wryly as she started the car. _Almost everyone is happy._

She could feel the eyes on her, impatient, tired, furious, and still kind after all of these years. She didn't know how he could stay that way but then again he was also dead. And that kept you the same way for all eternity. It was the halting of people in one state, their last state.

"I know you're there," she said, matter of fact and like her voice wasn't going to tremble and fall apart at the seams. "I've always known, Daigo."

"You haven't." There was a quiet sound from the other, like a visibly heard pout. "You would have said something."

"You aren't a reliable source on what I would or wouldn't do, Daigo." The words were harsher than she anticipated, coming out of her mouth with the same sternness from their time as coworkers. She felt him flinch about it. Still, she pressed on.

"As far as I knew, you weren't coming back to life, even if it was possible." She kept her voice steady, calm. The red faded behind her eyes as she breathed out and Meiko slid in. Her eyes flickered and widened at the sight of Daigo and just as quickly, she looked away.

Maki watched him recoil as if she had been punched. The guilt rose in his eyes like a wave of water and Maki felt the glimmers of pity in her hands.

Then Makiko hopped in on the other side and looked right at her father. Their identical eyes met and flashed in the same knowing, wonderful, agonizing way. After a moment the little girl smiled and turned away, babbling to Viktor and then to Maki herself about how she wanted to show her how _good_ she was at skating now. And Daigo faded back, a bad habit of his, but he didn't disappear, not yet. He sat and watched and listened, a churlish frown on his face.

He only disappeared when Taichi appeared, Agumon bouncing with hunger at his heels. "Room for one more?" He tried to smile and mean it and almost succeeded. He got points for that.

"I don't know," Maki began. "Meiko, is there room for him and his black hole?"

Meiko giggled. "I suppose we can try… if he changes out of his suit first."

Taichi let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you." And he was gone to change.

Meiko giggled again and Maki smiled faintly into the steering wheel.

There were all sorts of purgatory. Some seemed happier than others.

* * *

"Everything ready?"

"God, yes, hurry up!"

Poor Digimon were stuck staring at food that they couldn't eat. Poor, poor things.

Yuuri sat in the center of the camera, Viktor's hand on his knee. He was not smiling yet. He sat straight faced, Yuuko at his right, Takeshi above him, Yurio on Viktor's other side. His expression was vaguely puzzled. Yuuri could not blame him. He was doing something that most people didn't even try to do. It was a breach of ettiquite, he figured, but also a challenge. You only revealed your challenge to the public in a conference, not with your friends and family around you like a casual gathering. That was the biggest flub of them all. And on a single cell phone.

But still. They had changed this system, bucked it to hell. What was more trend for the masses to yell about.

"Okay, count down from three." Taichi's voice was full of mirth. "Three."

There was a shuffle as Takeshi yanked Maki next to him.

"Two."

A flash of purple at the edge of Yuuri's vision.

"One."

A tingling warmth from his knee as Pururumon flashed white and grew in his lap, full of feathers.

"We're live." Taichi's voice started him away from his surprise. Viktor squeezed his hand.

Yuuri breathed and began.

"Good morning," he said, voice steadier than he should have been. "You know me, likely. My name is Katsuki Yuuri. I wanted to tell you all-"

Another flash of purple followed by quicksilver.

"The theme of my skating program for this year. The theme is change."

There was a girl at Taichi's side, a sad knowing smile on her face. Yuuri nodded at her without losing time.

"Slow and sudden. Gradual and unprepared for. I… have experienced great change in my life, especially very recently. And I wanted to share the importance of accepting that with all of you, if it would be all right."

As he spoke, the little girl faded away.

Until next time. He would save her then, or absolve her. Anything he could really. Because she had no part in this, she gained nothing from this, nothing for the good of her world would come from this.

It would only be right to do the same.

After fifteen minutes the livestream ended and the group settled around the too large table to eat. There were a couple extra places with no food, but nobody minded that they weren't filled.

They were still here, in these changing times.

Yuuri managed to look at a photo of Phichit and his tiny partner and smile, meaning it from his heart.

It did help to watch the flood of feedback, at least until Maki snatched his phone and passed it to someone who wouldn't look at it or let him close.

Yuuri responded with an attempt to strike her with soy sauce before he could quite control his hands.

It missed and hit Yurio instead.

Chaos ensued.


	14. That Which Was Reclaimed

_**Epilogue: That Which Was Reclaimed**_

 _Date: X/XX/2013 - Time: XX:XX_

Nothing ever really ends until it's forgotten.

Homeostasis knew that, hence why she worked so hard to remember. Why she buried each memorial into a bottle, so there would be some life left to something, so the ends did not have to come.

She placed another bottle on a high shelf. Of course, it was all metaphysical, so unless anyone walked into this digital plane with the proper mindset, they wouldn't see anything. And, for the moment, Homeostasis was content with such. Without Gennai, there was no one to talk to in the first place that wasn't subservient.

The thought of him made Homeostasis press the cap on another bottle a little too tight. She left the footstool behind and took the extra steps to her chair. It was still as soft and squishy as ever, but then the beanbag would never deflate. It had been one of his last gifts to her, before the end.

Her heart ached for him. But then, perhaps this was better. The restless spirit could finally be at peace and another would come. When he was ready. Or she. She'd quite like a female acolyte to stick around this time. It would make her life much more interesting. Or at least different.

But until then, Homeostasis would be alone and she was going to have to get used to it, for all the problems she had caused. Or let Yggdrasil cause chaos in her grief and pain.

Homeostasis took a breath to calm her nerves and closed her eyes. "Everything has been set into motion," she said to no one and everyone, to her bearers, to the children below. "What you do with it is your choice and yours alone. I would ask you let me rest for a time. But I will come back someday, when the queen needs to be culled, I will be. I only ask that this time, you think of me fondly and wish happiness for me, as I do for you."

Dramatic farewell, yes, but it would do.

A book appeared from nowhere, settling on a desk that began existing alongside it. A pen appeared and scribbled Homeostasis shut her eyes. Her breathing, a mechanism that was a recollection of a time long gone, evened out after a good few minutes until the only sound was a little god, snoring peacefully alone.

Well, almost alone.

Soft footsteps padded across an unseen floor. Their owner clutched a soft blue blanket in both hands, dragging it on the carpet. And yet, when they put it up to Homeostasis' chin, it was as clean as if they had brought it from the dryer.

Nishijima Daigo sat on the spare chair, lanky limbs ungainly and torso sunk inside of it. If anyone could have seen him, it would have been downright comical.

Homeostasis slept through his flailing and dismay, which he was glad for. Once he was to rights again, he stared up where a ceiling would be, at the cosmos and lines blossoming out over their heads.

With fervor, he swiped his hand and a plain white ceiling righted itself over head. Soft elevator music came to life from now visible walls.

Daigo breathed out and in, over and over. The air was quiet. No one came.

Then he pushed himself up to roll and pat the young girl on the head, smoothing her hair and tucking her in. "Soon," he told her. She slept through it. "You will have justice someday."

But that day was not today. He was not going to be the one to dig into Yggdrasil's circuitry and make the old monster pay for the murders it probably didn't care about..

Words spoken, he closed his eyes and disappeared.

It was time to go and wait. He couldn't see her yet. He didn't have the courage.

* * *

Gennai watched.

Slumped in his bed, buried in tea, the elderly, youthful looking man stared blankly at the screen. On it, the tiny figure of Homeostasis slept, pretending to breathe-

Unlike him.

He coughed. Nothing came out this time. He was still breathing. He was still living.

 _She pretends to live and you have to struggle to try. How fair is that?_

The voice was his own, only a little more excitable, a little less expectant. He would almost say it was… childish.

 _Well, I am. Is something wrong with that?_

This was a question the chosen children could answer. There was no way to remain a child forever.

 _Unless you die as one and where's the lie in that?_

Gennai swallowed saliva again. "Go away," he grunted, unable to muster up the effort to shove the voice away.

 _But why? We have so much fun together! I'm the highlight of your life. You accomplished so much with me at the wheel and you know it._

Gennai said nothing. He didn't have to.

 _Fine._ The voice was pouting, or smiling. It was very hard to tell. _I'll sleep for now, just for now. But remember, the choice is yours to make and you will make the right one. I know you will._

And he was left with wonderful, blissful silence.

Gennai wept in it, his master's name on his lips. But she could not hear him, nor touch him. If they dared to meet once more, she would fall to this, and so would all the humans who heard her voice. And the worlds one day would end. One way or another.

So he suffered in silence. Or nearly.

He too, tried to sleep.

* * *

Yuuri never wanted children.

He loved his nieces by bond, loved his new goddaughter, loved sitting down at a table full of people and to be washed over by the comfort of knowing them all and knowing they really wished him about as much harm as a freshly made fruitcake.

But hearing the triplets start screeching down the hall of the inn after Makiko almost cemented the idea that he did not want to have anyone small of his own for at least another decade. Maybe a decade and a half. Never seemed like a good option too.

"Do I want to know?" he asked as Makiko leaped high up over heads (there was something in the Himekawa genetics, he was sure, to make impossible feats like frog leaping natural) and landed perfectly on her feet as she kept up towards the entrance.

Maki, sitting by the table with a cup of coffee in hand, merely sipped on. "Nothing exciting. They're just jealous Lopmon behaves for her and none of their little Chibimon like them much."

Yuuri wanted to laugh. "First world problem?" As he spoke, Poromon settled on his shoulder and rested comfortably against one cheek.

"A bit of one." She didn't shift at the sight, there was no envious flash. Her hand did tremble a little as she lowered her cup however. "To be fair this happens a lot, though, especially in larger families. They just get used to the family they have and then it doubles in size." She smiled and shook her head. "They'll slow down soon enough."

"At least they're toilet trained," Yuuri said with a snort. "You missed when they weren't."

"One little toddler learning how to sit on a cold toilet was enough thank you."

Yuuri laughed and Poromon, quiet as ever, chirped agreement.

Maki glanced back at her paper, before returning to the work at the small table. "Don't you have training to do?"

Yuuri blinked. "I… you remembered?"

"Your husband extrapolated for me." A grin crossed her face and he saw the little girl who had danced through trees and yelled curse words she shouldn't have known at giant dragons in that smile. "If you hurry, you can at least eat some breakfast."

Yuuri squinted. "I'm up on time."

"Are you?"

Now Yuuri couldn't help but wonder. "At least I'm dressed."

"There is that." Maki settled back as people rushed in and out. One, Yagami Taichi, spared them both a nod before he went past them all in his too big suit.

The two of them watched him go. Then, with a sigh, Maki packed up her papers. "I suppose I should find Makiko before she hits a tree."

"I'll go with you," he offered. "In case Viktor got a hold of her."

"Humans are such easy prey," Maki replied in answer.

Yuuri managed a smile as she stood up beside him. "Indeed we are. It's what makes us interesting."

"So it does."

There were voices outside. One high and one lower, both giggling like champions. "I think that sound signals terror." Her voice was wry. "For us."

"We should head it off," Yuuri managed to say, stroking pink feathers.

"Probably," she agreed.

There was a pause.

"Want to skive instead?" Yuuri offered, eventually.

Maki smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

As they walked, Yuuri's phone rang. He flicked the call open. "Phichit?"

"Yuuri!" His friend's voice was breathless, excited and trembling with something. "You won't believe who I just saw!"

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ And that's the ending of this fic. Kind of abrupt, a lead into what comes next, which will be hopefully sometime next year, all willing. Next fic will be Phichit, followed by a short Yurio fic, a short thing on Viktor (with a dose of Makiko) and then again, we will meet up with Yuuri for the final story. For now, let's look forward to Phichit and co in _northern lights_! Thanks so much for sticking through this one through its ups and downs.


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